


Two Sides to Every Story

by lord_of_the_phantom



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Adorable, Childhood Friends, Cute, F/M, eponine gets a happy ending again, finally a different premise from Daggers that I've thought of, gosh i like this fi, i just really love ep apparently, marius and eponine, marius is hard to write, musical-based kind of, really heckin' long, weird combinations
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-22 05:15:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 37
Words: 52,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12474296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lord_of_the_phantom/pseuds/lord_of_the_phantom
Summary: Èponine Thenardier, a girl of seventeen years old, has known Marius Pontmercy since they were five. They were best friends. Still are, for that matter. But she never, ever, thought she would fall in love with him. She just didn’t do that. Girls like her, street urchins, never fell in love with boys with a few dollars to their names. That didn’t happen.Marius Pontmercy, a boy of seventeen years old, has known Èponine Thenardier since they were five. They were best friends. Still are, for that matter. But when he meets a young girl named Cosette Fauchelevent, all of that is kind of thrown to the wind. However, he can’t shake the feeling that there is something more about his childhood best friend.In this beautifully woven tale of friendship, romance, and heartbreak, you will know these two characters like never before when you read Wolf Nightshade’s new fanfiction, Two Sides to Every Story.





	1. Chapter 1

I walked up to Maman, knowing she’d be happy because of what I’d stolen today. I’d charmed a sapphire brooch out of a smiling old woman who couldn’t resist the charms of a little girl like me. Can you believe it? A real sapphire! Those were so hard to come by! Then again, who could say no to a five-year-old? Not many people.   
“Maman, look what I got!” I said, smiling at her. “Isn’t it beautiful?”  
“I helped!” my three-year-old sister, Azelma, shouted, pointing at the brooch. I rolled my eyes. She didn’t help. She wasn’t the best little thief, although she was probably more adorable than me. But whatever. Maman was hopefully going to reward us for this find and I didn’t want to be the only one rewarded for this.   
Maman beamed. “This is beautiful, my darling! Wherever did you did find it?”   
“This old woman gave it to me when I said I was trying to raise money for new dolls for Azelma and me. We apparently needed it more than she did. She told me I reminded her of her granddaughter, who absolutely loves dolls. So I have her brooch now. Do you like it, Maman?” I asked. It wasn’t quite stealing, more of just…using my charms to my advantage. Oh, who am I kidding? It’s still stealing. And honestly, I felt kind of bad about it, stealing from a kind old woman like that. She had probably done nothing to deserve my family’s cruelty. But still, I had to please my mother.  
“Of course I do!” Maman said, kissing my forehead. “You’re such a good little thief, my dear Èponine. Such a perfect little burglar.” I knew nothing more than stealing. It was a good thing to steal as much as I could. Then I would have Maman’s favor. “What do you want in return, my darlings?”   
“New doll!” Azelma shouted. “I wan’ a new doll!” I rolled my eyes again. Dolls were everything to my little sister, who I loved dearly. I mean, sure, they were great and all, but there were more important things in life than getting a new doll.  
“Of course, Azelma. I’ll get you both new dolls tonight from the stall down the road. And what about you, Èponine? What do you want?”   
I thought for a moment. This didn’t happen often. Usually, Maman just thanked us and sent us back out into the inn to do more stealing. I mean, I knew this was different, but I thought Azelma’s reward would be the only one we got. I didn’t think Maman would ask me what I wanted. I had to use this well. Suddenly, an idea hit me. “Maman, could Azelma and I have a day where we can play outside? The weather’s getting nice and it’d be a shame to waste it. I’ll still help out with Gavroche, if you want me to.”  
Maman thought for a second. I could almost see the wheels turning in her head. Thinking about what she’d lose that day by not having us steal. She’d hate it, no doubt. And what would Papa think? He’d probably call me an ungrateful girl for wanting a day to myself without stealing.   
After what felt like three forevers, Maman finally answered me. “I guess,” she said, punctuating the sentence with a sigh. “As long as you help with Gavroche in the morning. It’ll make everything easier. He’s such a brat. Now, come on in. Dinner’s ready, my darlings. And then I need you to feed the boy. He’s been crying all evening while you were out stealing. I almost got a patron to help him. They always pity the baby.”   
“Really?” I asked, my question aimed toward dinner being ready rather than my little brother. It hurt that Maman didn’t really care about him. I mean, he was such a sweet little boy! Hardly ever cried and didn’t need much attention. He was going to be tough as nails. I could tell that even at the tender age of five.   
“Of course! It’s been ready for a while. I just waited a while to tell you. After all, you had to come turn in your finds to me,” Maman said. I sighed. Why did everything revolve around stealing? I had to steal to live, apparently. There was no doubt in my mind that Papa would throw me out if I didn’t get anything one day. Or hurt me somehow.   
I walked back into the inn, trying to stay hidden from the patrons of the Sergeant de Waterloo. They scared me, and I hated almost all of them. Most were men who towered over me and drank and gambled a lot. Sometimes, my father gambled with them. On those nights, he drank a lot too. He was scarier those nights than he was on others. He always yelled more and raised his fists if I didn’t do what he wanted.   
I sat down at the dinner table with a pot of beef stew. Well, if it even was beef. It probably wasn’t, honestly. We never served real meat. As I sat there, listening to Azelma slurp her stew, I heard Maman walk out the creaky wooden door. Most likely getting the dolls Azelma asked for. I turned to my little sister.   
“Are you excited, ‘Zelma?” I asked.  
“For what?” she asked through a mouthful of stew. I shivered. Gross. Azelma had no table manners.   
“For tomorrow! When we get to play outside, feel the sun shine down, and run around and just be ourselves. And we don’t have to put in any work. No stealing…nothing. It’s going to be amazing!” I said. I could almost feel the sun shining down on me. I hadn’t felt it in forever.  
“I just want my dolly!” Azelma said. “Her name’s gonna be Marie. Or maybe Anne.”  
“Mine’s going to be…Harmonie. That’s a pretty name.”  
“No fair! Your name is prettier than mine!” Azelma pouted. “Fine. I’m changing her name to Cecile. That’s prettier than Harmonie.”  
I sighed. Arguing with my little sister was pointless. Besides, Harmonie was a very pretty name, in my opinion. Though, Cecile was also a nice name, I had to admit. “That’s a nice name, ‘Zelma,” I said. She smiled. “Now, I’m going to head up to bed. I don’t want to be sleepy at all tomorrow!”  
“Me either!” Azelma said, stumbling up the stairs behind me.   
I crawled into my little bed, complete with warm quilt. Usually I didn’t use it unless it was winter, but the weight felt nice on that specific night. I wasn’t quite sure why, but it did. Azelma did the same, but didn’t use her quilt. She fell right asleep, but I couldn’t quite get to bed. My mind was buzzing with questions.  
What if I find a best friend tomorrow? I thought. It could be like one of Maman’s romance novels, where the girl finds someone she loves when she’s a child and they grow up and have a perfect life. What if this is a turning point for me? I might never have to steal again! Maybe this brooch will be the thing that means we can stop stealing. It’s unlikely, yet possible. This is the turning point. Your life will turn normal. You can be like a normal girl who doesn’t have to steal.  
I thought like this until I fell asleep, thoughts of the sun kissing my skin and the wind blowing my hair as I ran with my new best friend filling my brain.


	2. Chapter Two: Marius

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marius doesn't want to go to Montfermeil. Like, REALLY doesn't want to go.

I groaned. Boredom. Once again. Grand-père’s house was so boring! I’d lived there for almost a year and you’d think I’d be used to it by now, but it was still awful. He wasn’t at all prepared to raise a kid, which is pretty miserable for me. I had almost no toys, which was odd for a boy of my social class. But that didn’t matter to my grandfather, a stern man known to all as Gillenormand.   
I’d already done everything I could do. Grand-père wouldn’t let me go outside because apparently it was too dangerous, and I had no friends to go hang out with. What was a kid supposed to do, living in Paris? I supposed I could go try to find Theodule, my cousin, but he was so boring! Always talking about wanting to be a soldier and only wanting to play-fight. All he cared about was fighting, which I didn’t wish to do unless I had no choice.   
I flipped upside down on my bed, sighing. Eventually, I rolled off my bed and walked over to my little bookcase, searching for my favorite picture book, Puss in Boots. I wanted a cat like him. He could be a sort of friend to me, couldn’t he? Of course, Grand-père would hate the idea of me getting a cat. He’d say they were a “nuisance” and “smelled bad” and “took too long to take care of.”  
Or something like that.   
I had just gotten to the good part of the book when my grandfather called for me. I dropped the book on my bed, groaning. “Coming, Grand-père!” I shouted, then muttered under my breath, “Of course, now that I’ve found something to do, he calls for me.”  
So there I went, down the stairs to the place I so dreaded: Grand-père’s parlor. “Okay, so what do you need me for?” I asked, putting on a smile. I rarely smiled a true smile at my grand-père. He kept telling me that my father was an ‘awful human being’ and that it’s ‘good that he got me away from that man.’ Something idiotic like that.   
“We’re going to Montfermeil tomorrow. I’ve got a business trip that requires me to go there,” Grand-père said.  
I grimaced. “Why do I have to go? Mademoiselle Nicolette can watch me. She’s a good person. Please don’t make me go!”   
“I’d rather not take you, honestly. But Nicolette’s busy tomorrow. So you have to come with me.”   
I glared at my grandfather. How stupid was this? I’d just be an embarrassment and ruin his entire day. He’d just keep yelling at me to stop talking and go back to the carriage. It was a waste of time! It’s so…idiotic. Why did I have to go? He could find another person to go with him. “That’s not fair, Grand-père.”  
“How? You live with me. I have the right to force you to do anything I need you to,” Gillenormand said.   
“Monsieur, don’t you think this is a bit outrageous? The Pontmercy is just that—a boy. Please, let him just be a child and stay home. I can cancel my plans. Don’t worry about my plans. I can take him out somewhere.”  
However, my grandfather was having none of it. He shook his head, grimacing. “No, you’ve made those plans already and it would be very rude to cancel them. Besides, the boy needs to see more of France. There’s more beyond Paris. A cruel world. A different world to this. It’ll be a good experience for him.”  
I groaned. Why couldn’t I just stay home by myself? It was a bad idea, most likely, but it was probably better than going to Montfermeil with my grandfather. It would be less stressful for everyone. I could do what I wanted. Grand-père wouldn’t have to worry about me. I was a responsible boy! I could be safe.   
“I just don’t want him to be bored to death the entire day in Montfermeil. You know how Marius gets when he’s bored,” Nicolette said. I tried not to get offended. She was just trying to get the best for me. Nicolette was almost like a mother to me. Mine had died earlier that year. I still missed her to no end. But at least I had Nicolette. She was always kind to me, but most likely only because Grand-père forced her to be. After all, if she was kind to me, he didn’t have to be.  
“He won’t be bored. My business trips will be good for him. He’ll be perfectly safe in Montfermeil with me. And it’ll be fun. I’m not enthusiastic about him coming, but he’ll have a good time. It’s good for him to learn about business.”  
I groaned. Why? Why did he not listen to Nicolette? I would be perfectly fine here. And after all, Grand-père was usually opposed to Nicolette taking personal days. Why was it suddenly okay?  
Nicolette sighed. “Fine. Take him with you. But don’t complain to me if he starts inconveniencing you.”   
“I won’t,” Grand-père said. “Go eat, Marius. Your dinner’s been ready for ages now. Nicolette! Go sit with him. He seems bored. Don’t let him be. He gets awful when he’s bored.”   
I grumbled and trudged to the kitchen, spotting a sandwich on the kitchen table. Ham and cheese. Well, at least Nicolette knew what I liked. My mom had probably told her a while ago. Before she died. Maman knew that I adored ham and cheese sandwiches. She had to have told Nicolette and Grand-père. Must’ve. They didn’t pay enough attention to me to know what my favorite sandwich was.   
“How are you today, Monsieur Marius?” Nicolette asked. “I’m sorry I didn’t use your proper title for you when I was arguing with your grandfather. I know that’s dishonorable. Please forgive me.”  
I smiled at her. Nicolette was so kind. “It’s okay, Mademoiselle Nicolette. And please, it’s just Marius anyway. I’m a kid. It’s strange to call me Monsieur when you’re older than me and I’m a child,” I said.   
“Either way. I’m sorry you have to go to Montfermeil. I know you don’t want to.”  
“Oh well. I have to do a lot of things I don’t want to do. That’s what comes with living with my grandfather.”   
“True. He really doesn’t know how to care for you, does he, Marius?”  
“No.”   
We continued on with a dialogue like this for the rest of the time I was eating my dinner and until it was time for me to go to bed. However, when after Nicolette had tucked me in and kissed my forehead, I stayed awake, thinking about having to go to Montfermeil.  
Why me? I asked myself. Why must it always be me that Grand-père forces to go places? Why can he not take Theodule? After all, Theodule actually cares about going places and learning things about the rest of the world. I’d just prefer to stay home and read and write and learn from the comfort of my room. It’s not fair, how neither of us are getting what we truly want or need. I need to stay home and learn the way I learn. Theodule needs to get out and learn the way he learns. Why can’t we both be happy? I can’t go to Montfermeil. It’s not any fun. And I need fun. Children need to have fun.  
I fell asleep repeating that last phrase, not really looking forward to spending the day in Montfermeil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, this chapter was kind of a pain. Marius is hard to write, my dudes. But I think I did okay. It'll get better once we hit the part of the story where Marius is a reasonable, not-five-year old. For about three chapters. Then he falls in love with Cosette and he goes downhill again. Goodness, Marius, you're going to be a pain to write, aren't you?


	3. Chapter Three: Eponine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eponine wanders out into the streets and is met with an unexpected visitor.

I woke up with the biggest smile ever on my face. Of course, my dear little sister Azelma was still asleep. Typical Azelma. She could sleep until noon and not even care. I, on the other hand, couldn’t usually sleep past eight. Sadly. Sometimes I was just exhausted and wanted to sleep like ‘Zelma.  
But that day wasn’t one of those days. I was ready to get outside and have my own day.   
I sprinted down the stairs, grinning. My mother was waiting there at the bottom of the stairs, holding two dolls. “Is Azelma awake yet, darling Èponine?” Maman asked. I shook my head.   
“Nope. She’ll probably sleep until noon-ish again. You know how she is,” I said. Maman nodded.   
“Well, that’s true. What did she decide to name her doll, out of curiosity? I might stitch a little name tag for her if I’ve got the time,” Maman said. “I can make one for you as well, Èponine.”  
I shook my head. “I’m okay. Focus on ‘Zelma’s. Her doll’s name is Cecile. If you have time, you can make one for me. Her name’s Harmonie. But focus on Azelma. She’s more important.”   
“Okay then. Now, breakfast is ready in the kitchen whenever you’re hungry. Your father is already in there making lunch for the patrons. I’ll warn him of your presence.”   
I smiled and walked out of the room right before hearing my mother yell, “Alain! Your daughter is coming into the kitchen! Don’t do anything too awful in front of her!”   
“Oui, Adelise! I’ll make sure not to kill anything!” Papa yelled back. I winced. I hated when he killed things. It made me want to cry, seeing innocent animals hurt like that. I know, it’s outrageous. A strong Thenardier girl afraid of seeing an animal die. But animals were just so innocent…they rarely did anything wrong. Unlike humans.  
I walked into the kitchen, praying that my father would actually listen when we told him not to kill anything. He grinned at me, something rather rare. Probably just happy about the sapphire from yesterday. “Bon matin, Èponine! How are you, sweetheart?”   
I grimaced. Papa was up to something. Probably trying to charm me into making more good steals. But, of course, him being nice to me was rare. So, of course, I took advantage of it.  
“Très bien, Papa! Et vous?” I asked, smiling at him. He lifted me into the air.   
“I’m doing very well, my sweet little thief. And I’m very proud of you for what you did yesterday. That sapphire brooch you stole was perfection, ma cherie.” He kissed my forehead and cradled me, laughing. I poked at his three-cornered hat, my grin widening. Maybe I was right. The brooch was a turning point in my life. It seemed like my father finally loved me.  
I sat down at the kitchen table, comforted by the sounds of his work. For once, the inn was a comforting area for me. There were very few patrons that early in the morning, which meant very few drunk men. And those left from last night had what Papa called a hangover.   
I finished up my breakfast and ran up the stairs, not bothering that I might wake Azelma in the process. “I hope you have fun today, Èponine! Tell Azelma I said the same thing to her, okay?”  
I nodded at him. “Merci, Papa!”  
“Not so fast,” a voice said to me as its owner grabbed me up and swept me into a hug. “You think you can get away with not hugging your Maman?”  
I wriggled in Maman’s grasp. “Maman! Why’re you keeping me from going outside like this?” I asked, giggling. Both my parents were in high spirits that day. Interesting. That sapphire brooch had good effects on my family.   
“You gave your papa hugs, now it’s my turn. Do you not love your dear Maman, Èponine?”   
“I do! I do!” I said, snuggling into her. My maman was always good to me. She opened her mouth to say something else, but little Gavroche started crying.  
“Curse that boy!” Maman said.   
“I’ve got him, Maman. Where is the formula, again? He’s hungry. I can tell by his cry,” I said.   
“Check the icebox. Make sure to warm it up.” I nodded and walked back into the kitchen to fetch a bottle of formula. After that, I walked upstairs, making sure not to wake my sleeping sister. Of course, if Gav’s wailing didn’t wake her, nothing would.  
“Hey, Gavroche!” I cooed, looking down at my little brother. I had been the one to name him. The name really had no meaning to me. I just thought it sounded interesting. Maman didn’t care what I called him. Azelma and I were the only ones who insisted on calling him by his name.   
He gurgled and looked up at me. “You hungry, little buddy?” I asked, knowing full well he couldn’t answer me. “Of course you are. Maman probably hasn’t fed you since yesterday. Shame, huh? I wish she loved you like she loves me and ‘Zel. Anyway, c’mere, kid. I’ve got you.” I lifted him from his bassinet and offered him the bottle, which he gladly accepted, drinking from it hungrily. “There ya go, lil bugger.”   
He looked up at me with large, blinking blue eyes, almost as if he was asking me to stay with him. I ruffled the tuft of blond hair that was starting to grow on his head. “Mon petit oiseau,” I whispered. My little bird.  
With that said and done, I set the bottle on the dresser next to his bassinet and ran across the hallway to the room I shared with Azelma, smiling. I pulled out a brown and green dress and a navy-blue bonnet, tying the latter around my brown curls. I looked up into the little mirror in my room, smiling into it. I was a pretty young girl, with perfect curls and gorgeous brown eyes. Hopefully my looks would stay with me as I got older.   
I then skipped downstairs, beaming. My day was going to be perfect. I wouldn’t let anyone ruin it. I flung the door of the inn open, running out into the sunlight. Just as I’d dreamed it would, the sun kissed my skin. I felt radiant. I couldn’t resist the smile that appeared on my face. It probably looked like something out of a photograph. I stepped out into the grass, letting the grass tickle my feet.   
Just then, I saw a figure on the horizon. I didn’t think much of it at first, but then it kept getting closer. And closer. And closer. Strangely, I wasn’t really afraid of who it was. The figure looked small, perhaps someone around my age. I tilted my head, probably looking like a little dog. I crept toward the figure, hoping that it was someone near my age.   
Eventually, the figure started picking up speed, and before I knew it, it was right in front of me. A young boy with amber hair and green eyes. “Who’re you?” I asked. “Haven’t seen you around these parts before.”  
“Marius Pontmercy. I’m from Paris! Well, I can ask you the same question. Who are you?”   
“Èponine Thenardier. Welcome to Montfermeil! I live down at the inn down the straight. Wanna come play with me?”  
“Sure!”  
I led him back to the inn, smiling. There was something about this boy. Something in the way this boy, this…Marius, smiled. He had a certain air about him that just made me want to get to know him better. Something told me that the two of us had potential to be amazing friends. We could be the power duo of France if we ended up close enough.   
Perhaps he could be the best friend I’d been searching for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SHE MET MARIUS!! And we're back to writing about Eponine, who is such a heckin' cutie I can't even. This is a good chapter. I'm very happy I got to write this. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I can't wait for the next one. Sorry for the sporadic updates, I'm writing as much of this fic as I can because I love it a lot. Dang, I miss writing Les Mis fanfiction. Since Daggers, I've written like...nothing. I finally found something I can write!


	4. Chapter Four: Marius

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marius complains a lot about having to go to Montfermeil.

“Marius, wake up!” Nicolette said, shaking me. I grumbled and rolled over, trying to ignore her. She laughed and pushed a lock of her brown hair out of her face. “C’mon, you’ve got to go. I know you don’t want to, but it’s pretty much necessary.”   
I rolled over to face her. “No,” I said, blowing a strand of my brown hair out of my face. “I’m not getting up.”  
“You’ve got to. Monsieur Gillenormand will be very displeased with me if I were to not wake his darling grandson up. He would probably dismiss me and find a new servant and name her Nicolette. You wouldn’t like that, would you?”   
I sat straight up. “No! You can’t leave me, Mademoiselle Nicolette!” I yelped, staring at her. “You’re not planning to leave, are you?”   
“Of course not, darling Marius. I could never leave this place. I’ve worked here for ages, and it’s my home. I love everything about it.”  
I rolled my eyes. How could someone love everything about this place? It’s terrible! Nothing to do, nowhere to go. Just sitting around doing nothing for ages. Of course, Nicolette was constantly working. She ruffled my hair. “You need to go eat, Marius. Breakfast has been ready for a while. And your grandfather’s waiting to see you.”   
I scoffed. “Probably just wanting to chew me out,” I muttered. Nicolette shook her head.   
“He loves you, Marius. Even if you can’t see it. Now, go downstairs and eat while I get your clothes out. Your grandfather has asked me to do it since you’re five and five year olds do not have the greatest fashion sense,” Nicolette said, giggling.   
I scuffed my feet down the stairs and walked into the kitchen, glaring at anyone who dared to look at me. No one did, since Nicolette and Grand-père were the only people in the house. I stepped into the kitchen to see Grand-père sitting at the kitchen table, a plate of eggs and toast next to him.   
“Here’s your breakfast, Marius. How’d you sleep?” he asked. I shrugged. He was suddenly interested in my life? Unlikely. He wanted something from me, no doubt. “Why’re you all upset, my dear grandson?” I shrugged again and took a bite of my toast. Nicolette had definitely made this. Grand-père refused to touch the oven. Said it was Nicolette’s job to worry about making food, not his.   
A few minutes passed in silence before Grand-père turned to look at me. “Why aren’t you answering me? I know it’s hard for you, having just lost your mother. I would know. She’s my daughter. But I’m trying to reach out to you here. And it’s kind of hard when I’m met with this kind of reception,” he said.  
No, you’re not, I thought bitterly. You’re not trying to reach out to me. You’re just reaching out to me now because Nicolette told you to, probably. I’ve lived in this house for months, yet you’ve ignored me and treated me like trash for most of my time here. And now you’re mad at me because I don’t trust that you really care about me. You’ve spent MONTHS just treating me like trash and not caring for my needs. Why can’t you see this?   
But I didn’t let any of those thoughts leak out. I just looked at my grandfather, smiling like nothing was wrong. I could fake a smile. It wasn’t too hard. “I’m sorry, Grand-père. I’m just struggling after I lost Maman. I’ll try to be more tolerable. And I won’t complain the entire way to Montfermeil. I promise.”  
He smiled at me. “Thank you, Marius. You’re a good kid, you know.” I couldn’t help but grin. When Grand-père was kind to me, he was a good man. It was just rare for him to be nice to me.   
I walked back upstairs after breakfast to see Nicolette standing by my bedside, smiling. “I heard your conversation with Monsieur Gillenormand. It was surprisingly pleasant. Are you finally getting along with him?” she asked. I shrugged. Probably not. “Oh well. I’d just like to give you a word of warning: don’t antagonize him. Now, you need to get dressed. You’re leaving in about twenty minutes.”  
Sure enough, twenty minutes later, Grand-père was calling for us to leave. I did as he asked and climbed up into the carriage. I had promised Grand-père that I wouldn’t complain the entire way to Montfermeil, but little did he know that I wasn’t planning to speak to him at all. I just sat there the entire hour-long carriage ride.   
We arrived in Montfermeil at about nine in the morning. The minute we got out, Grand-père walked off and started talking to someone, leaving me behind. Splendid. Of course, me being me, I wasn’t surprised and decided to take matters into my own hands.  
I walked away, deciding that I was going to see Montfermeil by myself. Down one alley. Turn right on that street. Left down another. It was nice to be off by myself. I felt…free. Well, as free as a five-year-old Parisian boy could feel in a town such as Montfermeil.   
I continued on until I realized that I was lost. Classy, Marius. I wandered around the town for a bit before deciding that the best course of action was probably to find a place to stay for a bit and wait for my grandfather to find me. I wandered around for a little while until my eye caught a sign for what appeared to be an inn blowing in the wind. I watched as the door to said inn creaked open and a little figure, someone who was probably around my age, walked out.   
I started walking toward the inn, smiling. The mystery person could help me. Probably. If they couldn’t, I was probably doomed to wander the streets of Montfermeil forever. I saw them tilt her head, trying to figure out who I was, no doubt. I broke into a run. They could help me. If they were kindhearted, they would help me.   
Before I knew it, I was right in front of the person, staring into a pair of gold-flecked hazel eyes. I backed up a few steps, scanning the figure in front of me. It was a girl, with dark brown curls and pale skin. She was wearing a navy blue bonnet and a brown-and-green dress.   
“Who’re you?” she asked. “Haven’t seen you around these parts before.”   
I grinned at her. “Marius Pontmercy,” I said. “I’m from Paris! Well, I can ask you the same question. Who are you?”   
“Èponine Thenardier,” she said. “Welcome to Montfermeil! I live at the inn down the street. Wanna come play with me?”   
“I’d love to play!”   
She took my hand and led me back to the inn. All the while, I could see the wheels in her head turning. What was she thinking about? Of course, I was having some thoughts of my own. I was thinking that she could be my best friend. Or, at least a friend. I’d never had a friend before. Well, I did back before Maman died. But after that, I never had any other friends.   
Maybe this girl, this…Èponine, could be the cure to the boredom I’d been suffering from for ages.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo, that chapter took a while! Marius is so adorable, though. And now they've both met each other in their respective chapters. Sorry that one took a while, I kept getting distracted. I tried to parallel the chapters, and they've got the same dialogue, sorry for that. I just wanted to keep it going well with dual perspective and all that jazz.


	5. Chapter Five: Eponine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eponine and Marius spend their day together.

I pulled my new friend to the inn, laughing all the way. He was even smiling. Well, he had been already, but he was even happier now. That was new to me. I’d never made people happy just by existing before. My parents’ love was mostly conditional. They loved me, but only on their terms. This boy—Marius, he said his name was—cared about me even though he hardly knew me.  
Okay, maybe that was an overstatement. But he at least tolerated me. That was more than I could say about my parents most of the time.  
“What’s it like, living in Paris?” I asked. I’d always wanted to go to Paris. It was the city where everything seemed to happen. Much more interesting than sleepy little Montfermeil.   
“I wouldn’t know. I basically just sleep there at night. I haven’t been out and explored the city in a long time. You see, I live with my grandfather. He means well, I’m sure, but after my mother died earlier this year, I’m pretty sure he’s realized that he has no idea how to raise a child. He took care of my mother, but since then, he hasn’t cared for a child in years. And he’s never raised a son, to my knowledge.”  
I winced. A boy, living in Paris, who hadn’t even experienced the wonders of the city! Unspeakable! How had he not managed to get out and see everything the city had to offer? It wasn’t fair, that the people who lived in Paris didn’t get to see it, and those who would die to see Paris were stuck in places like Montfermeil.  
That’s life, I guess. Those who want something more than anything can’t have it, and those who don’t do anything with it receive it.   
We arrived back at the inn to see my beloved little sister, Mademoiselle Azelma Thenardier, standing outside under the creaky sign, arms crossed and lower lip poked out. Splendid. She was pouting again.   
“Sorry in advance about my sister,” I muttered, walking up to Azelma. “Hey, ‘Zelma!”  
“You left me—who’s that?” Azelma asked, her attention quickly turning to Marius.   
I grinned at my auburn-haired, blue-eyed sister. “My new friend. Marius…uh, what did you say your last name was again?” I cringed. I was already messing things up by forgetting Marius’s last name. Good job, ‘Ponine. You’ve already messed up.   
“Pontmercy.”  
“Right. That.”  
A smile crossed Azelma’s face. “Cool name! My name was almost Gulnare. It came out of one of Maman’s books. So did ‘Ponine’s name. Maman loves her books.”  
“Oh, I remember that!” I said. “Papa talked Maman out of calling Azelma that at the very last second. Said it sounded too much like Èponine. Or something like that,” I said. “Anyway, whatcha wanna do first?”   
“I wanna play with Cecile!” Azelma yelled. I plugged my ears. For being such a little girl, my sister sure could scream.   
“Let’s not do that. Want to swing? Maman made ‘Zelma and me a swing out of that old wagon wheel over there. Isn’t it cool! There’s room for all three of us, I think,” I said, pointing at the rickety old swing.   
“Why can’t we play with Cecile and Harmonie?” Azelma asked, pouting. I rolled my eyes. I loved her to bits, but she could be such a brat sometimes!   
“You go and do that, Azelma. I’m going to hang out with my new friend,” I said, glaring at her. She glared at me and turned away, clutching Cecile.   
I then led Marius over to the swing. It certainly didn’t look like something someone from Paris would ever use, but then again, nothing in Montfermeil did. It was made from an old overturned cart, with spokes from the wheel bound together to make a seat. The ropes holding it up were just that—rope that someone left at the inn when they were drunk. Or maybe Papa stole it from them. I prefer to think that they just forgot it. We’d built the swing about a week before that day, in the event Azelma and I finished work early and wanted somewhere to play. Little did we know that it would come into use so early.   
“Sorry it looks so rundown,” I said, realizing that it looked pretty trashy compared to what Marius had seen in Paris. But he smiled at me.   
“It’s awesome!” Marius said, sitting down on it. “It’s better than pretty much anything I’ve ever seen.”  
“You’ve got to just be saying that. There’s no way it’s better than what you’ve seen in Paris,” I said, shocked. He shook his head. I took a seat next to him. “How?”   
“Grand-père doesn’t know how to take care of children, remember?” he said. “To me, a boy who doesn’t know anything about being a child, this is the most amazing thing on the planet.”   
I grinned and pushed off, causing us to rock gently. “That’s awesome. Well, you’re welcome to stop by and use the swing any time you’re in Montfermeil. Me and Azelma’ll be glad to have you.”   
Marius’s eyes lit up. “Really? Thank you so much, Èponine!” He threw his arms around me.  
“You’re welcome. And please, call me ‘Ponine. It’s easier to say and much less formal,” I answered.   
“Alright then…’Ponine.”   
We stayed on the swing for about fifteen more minutes before I saw two shapes on the horizon: a small one, which was skipping around, and a larger one, who was walking with the little one, trying to keep it under control. I didn’t think anything of it at first; for all I knew, they were just people asking for directions or needing a place to stay the night. On any regular day, I would’ve gone to see them and started my pickpocketing, but it was my day off with my new best friend. They weren’t my responsibility.   
Well, I didn’t think they were. Then Azelma ran toward us, looking rather frantic. “Do you see them too?” Azelma asked, her blue eyes wide.   
“Yep, but they aren’t our responsibility today. We’ve got the day off, remember?” I said. Marius looked rather confused. “Don’t ask. We work at the inn sometimes.” Okay, so maybe that wasn’t the whole truth, but there was no way I was telling Marius that I robbed the patrons of the Sergeant de Waterloo. That’s one of those things you tell someone after you’ve become really close.  
“We should still tell Maman about them,” Azelma said.   
“Fine,” I said, groaning and jumping off the swing. My dress almost blew up in the wind, but it didn’t. However, my bonnet did come off my head, so I don’t know what’s worse. Probably the dress, but at the time, the bonnet falling off was pretty bad.   
We walked into the inn. “Maman!” Azelma yelled. “There’s people outside! They look confused!”   
Maman ran toward us. “Lead me to them, darlings!” she said. “Oh, hello there petit garcon. What brings you here?”  
“He’s my new friend Marius Pantmery!” I shouted.   
“Pontmercy, but whatever,” Marius said.  
“Sorry.”  
We walked outside to see that the two figures had arrived. It was time for another great adventure to begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, this was a cute chapter. I still love Azelma a lot, by the way. Nothing's changed from Daggers. I still love that little bean. I love them both.


	6. Chapter Six: Marius

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically the same as last chapter but Marius. Kinda fluffy. Marius sounds pretentious.

Èponine literally dragged me to the inn. Had I wanted to slow down, which, of course, I didn’t, I wouldn’t have been able to. For being such a little girl, she was pretty strong. I couldn’t stop smiling, and why would I? I finally had a best friend. At least, I hoped I did. And she seemed to care about me. I hadn’t had someone to care about me besides Nicolette for ages.   
Okay, maybe I was overestimating my new friend. She probably didn’t actually care that much. But still. She already liked me more than Grand-père did.  
Suddenly, out of the blue, she asked me what life was like in Paris. Her eyes were shining, and I could tell that she was dying to go to Paris. And why wouldn’t she be? It was a city of wonders, where everything seemed to happen. Every revolution happened on the streets of Paris. Every parade. Every murder. Everything that made the newspapers happened in Paris.  
But I hadn’t experienced any of it because of my grandfather keeping me in the house.  
“I wouldn’t know,” I admitted. “I basically just sleep there at night. I haven’t been out and explored the city in a long time. You see, I live with my grandfather. He means well, I’m sure, but after my mother died earlier this year, I’m pretty sure he’s realized that he has no idea how to raise a child. He took care of my mother, but since then, he hasn’t cared for a child in years. And he’s never raised a son, to my knowledge.”  
Èponine winced, and were I in her shoes, I probably would’ve as well. After all, it must feel awful to know that a boy who gets to spend every day in a city like Paris, where everyone is dying to go, is wasting his life away in the city. I deserved to be in Montfermeil, and Èponine deserved Paris.  
Mark my words, I’ll get my best friend to Paris someday. She deserves it.   
We arrived at the inn to see a little girl with auburn hair and blue eyes standing outside under the sign, which depicted a man on horseback, aiming a bayonet out at an unknown enemy. The girl’s arms were crossed and her lower lip was poked out. Èponine huffed. The girl must’ve acted like this a lot.  
“Sorry in advance about my sister,” Èponine muttered as she walked toward the little girl. Her face brightened as she did so. “Hey, ‘Zelma!” she said, all traces of her former bitterness gone.  
“You left me—who’s that?” the girl, ‘Zelma, asked, turning toward me. I grimaced. Great. Questions about myself.  
Èponine smiled at her baby sister. “My new friend. Marius…uh, what did you say your last name was again?” She cringed, and I could tell that she was embarrassed.   
I smiled at her, trying to show that it was okay that she’d forgotten my last name. “Pontmercy.”  
“Right. That.”  
Azelma smiled. “Cool name! My name was almost Gulnare. It came out of one of Maman’s book. So did ‘Ponine’s name. Maman loves her books.”  
“Oh, I remember that!” Èponine cried. “Papa talked Maman out of calling Azelma that at the very last second. Said it sounded too much like Èponine. Or something like that. Anyway, whatcha wanna do first?”   
“I wanna play with Cecile!” Azelma shouted. Èponine and I both plugged our ears. Geez. Azelma could be really loud, apparently, despite her small size. The real question, however, wasn’t how such a small girl could be so loud; it was “who is Cecile?” Was she some kind of friend of theirs that I didn’t know about? Probably not; Èponine had consistently said that she had no other friends.   
“Let’s not do that,” Èponine said, turning to me. “Want to swing? Maman made ‘Zelma and me a swing out of that old wagon wheel over there. Isn’t it cool! There’s room for all three of us, I think.” She pointed at an old swing across the yard.   
“Why can’t we play with Cecile and Harmonie?” Azelma asked. I still didn’t know who Cecile and Harmonie were, but it was okay.   
“You go and do that, Azelma. I’m going to go hang out with my new friend,” Èponine said, shooting her little sister a dirty look. Yikes. Sometimes I was thankful I had no siblings. Azelma turned and stormed away, clutching a doll.  
Oh. That was who Cecile was. A doll. Good job, Marius.   
Èponine then took my hand and led me over to a little swing. I could tell that she thought it wasn’t good enough, but I thought it was amazing. It was made of an overturned cart that appeared to have been there for a while, with three spokes missing from the wheel. Those spokes formed the bench of the swing. The ropes holding it up weren’t frayed, so this swing clearly hadn’t been used much.   
“Sorry it looks so rundown,” Èponine said, looking ashamed of the little swing.  
“It’s awesome!” I said, taking a seat on it. It may not have looked like much, but it was more than I’d had for most of my life. “It’s better than pretty much anything I’ve ever seen.”  
“You’ve got to just be saying that. There’s no way it’s better than what you’ve seen in Paris,” Èponine said, her eyes wide. I shook my head. It was ten times better than anything in Paris. “How?” she asked, shock turning to confusion.  
“Grand-père doesn’t know how to take care of children, remember?” I said. “To me, a boy who doesn’t know anything about being a child, this is the most amazing thing on the planet.”   
She smiled and ran her feet across the ground, sending the swing into a gentle rock. “That’s awesome. Well, you’re welcome to stop by and use the swing any time you’re in Montfermeil. Me and Azelma’ll be glad to have you.”  
My eyes lit up. “Really? Thank you so much, ‘Ponine!” I threw my arms around her, overjoyed.  
“You’re welcome. And please, call me ‘Ponine. It’s easier to say and much less formal.”  
“Alright then…’Ponine.”   
We stayed on the swing for about fifteen more minutes, but I noticed that Èponine was kind of staring off into the distance. I didn’t know what she was looking at until I saw the two figures on the horizon: a large, serene one and a small, flighty one. A mother and her child, no doubt. We didn’t pay much attention to them until Azelma ran over.  
“Do you see them too” Azelma asked.   
“Yep, but they aren’t our responsibility today,” Èponine said. I must’ve looked confused, because she added, “Don’t ask. We work at the inn sometimes.”  
“We should still tell Maman about them,” Azelma said.  
“Fine,” Èponine groaned, jumping off the swing. As she did so, her bonnet fell to the ground.   
I followed the sisters into the inn. “Maman!” Azelma shouted. “There’s people outside! They look confused!”  
Their mother ran toward us. “Lead me to them, darlings!”’ she said. “Oh, hello there petit garcon. What brings you here?”  
“He’s my new friend Marius Pantmery!” Èponine yelped.  
“Pontmercy, but whatever.”  
“Sorry.”  
We walked outside to see the two figures standing there. It was time for the next part of our adventure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I LOVE WRITING MARIUS. That is all. He's suddenly really adorable to me, and I don't understand why. I think it took me until about here to get to where I needed to with his character.


	7. Chapter Seven: Eponine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eponine meets Cosette.

Like I said, the figures had already arrived, and I was surprised to see another girl my age! She had blonde hair and blue eyes, and was very pretty. Marius seemed to think so, too. The woman who was with her had dark brown hair and pretty brown eyes. She looked almost nothing like the little girl, but there was something about the two of them that convinced me that they were mother and daughter.   
Maman, being Maman, immediately pounced on the older woman like a tiger. “Ah, welcome to the Sergeant de Waterloo!” Maman said, smiling. The woman smiled back at her, but it was different than Maman’s smile. Maman had a dark, somewhat cunning smile. This woman’s smile was innocent, like a peaceful lamb.   
Except lambs don’t smile. But that defeats the point of my metaphor.   
“What do you need?” Maman asked.  
“Cosette, honey, go play. Maman’s got to talk to this nice lady, alright?” the woman said. The little girl looked up at her mother, confused. “Go! These girls and this boy are nice. They won’t hurt you. I promise.”  
“Are you sure? They look scary,” the little girl, Cosette, as her mother called her, said.  
“Yes, I’m sure. Go play with them.”  
She walked over to us, hiding her face behind a curtain of blonde hair. Azelma and I smiled, trying to show that we weren’t scary. Of course, it probably didn’t work. Being Thenardiers, we always looked like scary.   
“Come play with us! There’s room for you on our swing,” I said. “My name’s Èponine. That’s my sister Azelma, and that’s my best friend Marius. You can be my best friend too. Everyone needs two best friends.”   
Maybe that wasn’t true. But two best friends were better than one. That was more than Azelma had, and I always had to be better than Azelma. Then my parents would love me more and I’d get better blankets, which meant I’d be warmer, and all sorts of other things. There were benefits to being a good little Thenardier.  
Sometimes, at least.   
“My name’s Euphrasie, but somehow Maman got Cosette out of that, so please just call me Cosette. It’s easier to say,” Cosette said. “And it’s prettier sounding.”   
I nodded. I wished my name was something like Cosette. It was prettier sounding than just…Èponine. Although, her name suited her better: pretty and elegant, like her. My name suited me: a little more down-to-earth and slightly less elegant. But either way. We both had nice names. Mostly, at least.   
“So, what do you want to play? Me and Marius were swinging. It’s a lil rickety, but it’s a good swing. Papa built it last week with stuff people left at the inn,” I said, pointing at the swing. Once again, I was embarrassed by it. I didn’t know where Cosette was from, but that swing was definitely worse than anything she’d ever seen.  
Good grief, why were we so poor that we had to run an inn to survive? Not only that, but we had to steal from inn patrons?   
Never become a Thenardier.   
Cosette smiled at me, breaking me out of my trance. “That sounds fun. I’ve never had a swing,” she said.   
“Me either!” Marius said. “But ‘Ponine’s is really fun.” Cosette tilted her head, looking confused. “Oh, ‘Ponine’s Èponine. I call her ‘Ponine and her little sister’s ‘Zelma. It’s easier to say.”  
“Kinda like why your maman calls you Euphrasie ‘stead of Cosette,” Azelma said. “It’s easier to say.”  
“Azelma was the one who started calling me ‘Ponine. When she was really little, she couldn’t pronounce her Es. Well, actually, I was Pony first, but we translated that to mean ‘Ponine, which we then translated to mean Èponine. And it kind of stuck. It used to be one of the most annoying things ever, but I kind of got over it,” I said.   
“Kind of? You say that like it still kind of annoys you,” Marius said.  
“It does when it comes from the wrong person. Like if Monsieur Brochard down the road called me ‘Ponine, I’d knock ‘im into next week, probably. But if any of you called me ‘Ponine, I wouldn’t have a problem with it,” I explained.   
“Interesting. I don’t have a problem with strangers calling me Cosette. That’s been my name ever since I was little. I think Maman’s only called me Euphrasie once that I remember, when I was in big trouble.”  
She’d only gotten in trouble once that she could remember? Wow. I got in trouble a good amount for not stealing enough or stealing from the wrong patrons. Some of them were ready to jump on us if they noticed that something was missing. Usually the sober ones were like that. I had to wait ‘til they were real, real drunk before I could get anything from them. After they’d had a lot of Papa’s alcohol, I could steal easily. Usually, they didn’t even notice until they’d already left, if they noticed at all. I’d gotten rather good at my little job, which is why I was able to play in the first place.   
Oh, I got distracted again. Classy, Èponine. Real classy.   
The three of us took a seat on the swing and pushed off, sending ourselves into the air. As for Azelma? She ran off to play with Cecile again, like usual. Honestly, my little sister loved that doll more than she loved me sometimes.   
“So, where’d you come from?” I asked. “I’ve lived my entire life in Montfermeil, and Marius over here is from Paris.”  
“I’m from Paris, too! Maman’s on her way to Montreuil-sur-Mer with me, and I’m really excited. I bet it’s not as pretty as Paris, though. Nothing’s as pretty as Paris. It’s the best city ever!” Cosette said, beaming. I felt a ripping sensation in my stomach. Jealousy, no doubt. I was so jealous! Both my best friends were from Paris! Paris! How lucky they were, to live in such a city. But of course, Cosette was en route to Montreuil-sur-Mer, which probably wasn’t as nice. Nothing could be as nice as Paris.  
“You’re so lucky. I wish I could go to Paris. It’s the greatest city in the world, in my opinion. So much better than this mess known as Montfermeil. There’s nothing here but gutter rats and corrupt people.” Like me, I added silently. I may’ve only been five, but I knew what corruptness was. And I knew that my parents were corrupt.   
“I wish I got to spend more time in Paris. Five years there is not enough to be satisfied,” Cosette murmured.  
“It’s better than no years at all,” I said, bitterness showing in my voice.  
Marius must’ve heard my anger, for he then said, “Èponine, I’m sure that you’ll get to go to Paris someday. You’ll come and visit me, and I’ll show you everything the city has to offer. Nicolette, my grand-père’s servant girl, will take us out there and we’ll see the entire city. You’d love the Arc de Triomphe, ‘Ponine. I’ve always had a certain love for it.”   
“Really, Marius?” I asked, hopeful.  
“Of course!”   
Had we not been on a swing, I would’ve hugged him. My best friend was offering to take me to Paris! And we’d see the Arc de Triomphe! I’d heard stories from the ladies at the inn about it. It was made of white marble and had all sorts of designs all over it. People got married at the site a lot, and it was a must-see if you were in Paris.   
Or so I’d heard.   
A few hours passed full of small talk before Maman and the woman walked over.   
“Cosette, my darling, can I speak with you for a second?” Cosette’s maman asked, kneeling down. Cosette ran over to her, smiling.  
“Whatcha need, Maman?” she asked.   
“Sweetheart, I know this is going to be hard for both of us, but I have to leave you here. I’m going to find work, and they won’t hire me if I’m unmarried with a child. I’m so sorry, my darling. But you’re going to have two sisters and a brother!” the woman said.  
“But they aren’t you, Maman!” Cosette wept.  
“I know they’re not. And I’ll come back for you when we have enough money. I love you so much, Cosette. Remember that, and you’ll make it through this. Besides, you’ve got your new friends. They’ll take care of you, my darling.”  
Cosette didn’t answer. She was crying too hard. I wondered if I’d cry like that if my mother left me somewhere with a new family. Probably not. I’d likely be happy to be away from Maman.   
With that, the woman kissed Cosette’s forehead and stood up. “Thank you for taking her in, Madame,” she said to my mother. “I’ll pay you monthly. If she gets sick, I’ll pay for medicine. Don’t you worry about a thing.” She then turned and walked away without looking back. It may’ve seemed heartless for her not to look back, but I knew she had a reason. If she looked back and saw her daughter’s heartbroken face, she’d come back in an instant, and they’d both be dead.  
“Don’t cry, Cosette,” Azelma said. “We’re going to be sisters!”  
That was true. I had a new sister. And I knew I was going to love living with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PURE FLUFF. GOLLY, THAT WAS PURE FLUFF.


	8. Chapter Eight: Marius

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marius meets Cosette for the FIRST time and they become close friends.

As we’d already stated, the figures had arrived, and it’s safe to say that we were all surprised to see a girl our age. She was beautiful, with blonde hair and shining blue eyes. There was also a woman with her, who had dark brown hair and brown eyes. They looked absolutely nothing alike, but the dynamic between them convinced me that the woman was the girl’s mother.   
Èponine’s mother ran at the other woman, grinning a toothy grin. “Ah, welcome to the Sergeant de Waterloo!” she said. The woman smiled at her, but she seemed like more of a frightened smile, like the smile you would give someone when you see them and they greet you but you don’t want to talk to them.  
That didn’t make much sense.   
“What do you need?” Èponine’s mother asked.   
“Cosette, honey, go play. Maman’s got to talk to this nice lady, alright?” the woman said. Her daughter looked up at her, clearly confused. “Go! These girls and this boy are nice. They won’t hurt you. I promise.”  
“Are you sure? They look scary,” the girl, Cosette, said.   
“Yes, I’m sure. Go play with them.”  
The little girl walked over to us, eyes wide and hair hiding her face. Azelma and Èponine smiled, trying to hide the fact that they were kind of frightening, but it didn’t end well. Cosette just looked more frightened than she did before.   
“Come play with us! There’s room for you on our swing!” Èponine said. “My name’s Èponine. That’s my sister Azelma, and that’s my best friend Marius. You can be my best friend too. Everyone needs two best friends.”  
I sighed internally. Èponine was being quite forward. I get that she wanted Cosette to feel welcome, but I didn’t want her to scare her off. Cosette seemed like a really shy type of girl, but she also seemed really nice. I did need more friends, after all. And maybe Èponine was right. Maybe everyone did need two best friends.   
Maybe.   
“My name’s Euphrasie, but somehow Maman got Cosette out of that, so please just call me Cosette. It’s easier to say,” Cosette said. “And it’s prettier sounding.”   
I nodded. Cosette was right. Cosette was prettier sounding than Euphrasie. There was just something about the soft vowel sounds and all kinds of other stuff that worked better. It suited her: somewhat birdlike, pretty, and with a calming presence. Oh, once again, that made no sense. Goodness, Marius, do you not know what to say or something?  
Then again, I never do.   
“So, what do you want to play?” Èponine asked. “Me and Marius were swinging. It’s a lil rickety, but it’s a good swing. Papa built it last week with stuff people left at the inn.” She pointed at the swing, her face flushed. Once again, she was embarrassed by the things she had. Why did she never think anything was good enough?   
It made me wonder about the kind of past she had. Her parents already seemed awful, but did they treat her badly?   
I could only wonder, couldn’t I?  
Cosette smiled at Èponine, seeming to break her out of deep thought. “That sounds fun. I’ve never had a swing,” she said.   
“Me either!” I said. “But ‘Ponine’s is really fun.” Cosette looked confused, and I realized my mistake. “Oh, ‘Ponine’s Èponine. I call her ‘Ponine and her little sister’s ‘Zelma. It’s easier to say.”  
“Kinda like why your maman calls you Cosette ‘stead of Euphrasie,” Azelma said. “It’s easier to say.”  
“Azelma was the one who started calling me ‘Ponine,” Èponine explained. “When she was really little, she couldn’t pronounce her Es. Well, actually, I was Pony first, but we translated that to mean ‘Ponine, which we then translated to mean Èponine. And it kind of stuck. It used to be one of the most annoying things ever, but I kind of got over it.”  
“Kind of? You say that like it still annoys you,” I teased. She rolled her eyes.   
“It does when it comes from the wrong person,” Èponine said. “Like of Monsieur Brochard down the road called me ‘Ponine, I’d knock ‘im into next week, probably. But if any of you called me ‘Ponine, I wouldn’t have a problem with it.”   
“Interesting. I don’t have a problem with strangers calling me Cosette. That’s been my name ever since I was little. I think Maman’s only called me Euphrasie once that I remember, when I was in big trouble.”  
I was shocked. Cosette had only gotten in trouble once that she could remember? Wow. I got in trouble almost daily for forgetting to do something or other that Grandfather wanted me to. It was always “Marius, do this,” or “Marius, do that.” Never “Marius, you’ve done well,” or “Marius, you’re the best grandson on earth.” No matter what I did, it wasn’t enough to please Grand-père. Why was everything like that? Cosette was so lucky to have a mother who loved her. Her mother would’ve loved mine. And everything would be better for me if Maman was alive.  
Goodness, Marius, you keep getting distracted. You’re only five; get it together!  
The three of us took a seat on the swing and pushed off, launching into the air. And Azelma, that darling girl, ran off to play with her doll once again. I wasn’t surprised. She loved that doll more than some humans.   
“So, where’d you come from?” Èponine asked. “I’ve lived my entire life in Montfermeil, and Marius over here is from Paris.”   
“I’m from Paris, too! Maman’s on her way to Montreuil-sur-Mer with me, and I’m really excited. I bet it’s not as pretty as Paris, though. Nothing’s as pretty as Paris. It’s the best city ever!” Cosette yelped, beaming. I saw jealousy cross Èponine’s face. And why wouldn’t she be jealous? She was dying to go to Paris, and there was no way for her to get there. But she would one day. My best friend would get to Paris. She had to.   
“You’re so lucky. I wish I could go to Paris. It’s the greatest city in the world, in my opinion. So much better than this mess known as Montfermeil. There’s nothing here but gutter rats and corrupt people.” That wasn’t true. Èponine and Azelma weren’t corrupt, were they? Of course they weren’t. My friends weren’t corrupt.   
“I wish I got to spend more time in Paris. Five years there is not enough to be satisfied,” Cosette murmured.  
“It’s better than no years at all,” Èponine grumbled, a touch of anger in her tone.  
I had to do something to prevent her from blowing up, so I said, “Èponine, I’m sure that you’ll get to Paris someday. You’ll come and visit me, and I’ll show you everything the city has to offer. Nicolette, my grand-père’s servant girl, will take us out there and we’ll see the entire city. You’d love the Arc de Triomphe, ‘Ponine. I’ve always had a certain love for it.”  
“Really, Marius?” she asked, smiling.  
“Of course.”   
I could tell that she was dying at the thought of going to her favorite city. And I was dying, too. I could make her dreams come true. I could finally do something useful. I could make someone happy for once. I hadn’t been able to do that for a while. And my best friend would finally be happy.   
Wasn’t that what mattered the most?  
A few hours passed full of trivial conversations before Èponine and Cosette’s mothers walked over.   
“Cosette, my darling, can I speak with you for a second?” the woman asked, kneeling down, careful not to mess up her dress. Cosette ran over to her, beaming.   
“Whatcha need, Maman?”  
“Sweetheart, I know this is going to be hard for both of us, but I have to leave you here. I’m going to find work, and they won’t hire me if I’m unmarried with a child. I’m so sorry, my darling. But you’re going to have two sisters and a brother!” the woman said.   
“But they aren’t you, Maman!” Cosette wept.  
“I know they’re not. And I’ll come back for you when we have enough money. I love you so much, Cosette. Remember that, and you’ll make it through this. Besides, you’ve got your new friends. They’ll take care of you, my darling.”  
Cosette didn’t answer. She was crying as hard, if not harder, as I was when Maman died. And it was like her mother had died. For all she knew, she would be stuck in Montfermeil forever.  
With that, her mother kissed Cosette’s forehead and got to her feet. “Thank you for taking her in, Madame. I’ll pay you monthly. If she gets sick, I’ll pay for medicine. Don’t you worry about a thing.” The woman walked away without looking back. I was disturbed by her not looking back, but I knew that if she saw Cosette’s heartbroken, tearstained face, she wouldn’t be able to resist coming back, and she wouldn’t be able to find work.  
“Don’t cry, Cosette. We’re going to be sisters!” Azelma said.  
Well, at least there was a silver lining to this. For some of us.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EEEEKKKKK that was so fluffy. I know it's basically the same as the last chapter, but Marius's little commentary is giving me LIFE right now. I've gotten so much better at writing him since Daggers ended, and I don't quite know why.


	9. Chapter Nine: Eponine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eponine exchanges addresses with Marius before something terrible happens.

Cosette was still crying, even after we’d tried to tell her that she was going to be our sister. Did she not want to live with me? Was she not excited to be my sister? Or was she just still sad about her mother leaving her behind? It was almost impossible to tell.   
Well, either way, I was still really excited about having a sister my age. She would be almost like my twin! And she could sleep in my room in Azelma’s old bed. ‘Zelma could just go sleep with Gavroche in his room. I didn’t quite understand why he got his own room and I didn’t. I was older, and Maman liked me more! Maybe she just wanted him to not wake us all up with his crying. But it didn’t really work. Either way. Azelma could go share with him and I could share with Cosette.   
Azelma, on the other hand, didn’t look that enthusiastic. Once Maman had walked back inside, she looked positively livid. “She’ll take all Maman’s love from me!” she wailed.   
“Oh, get over it, Azelma. Maman won’t love anyone more than she loves you,” I muttered. “Including me. You’re her favorite.”  
“I was before you got that stupid sapphire and gave it to her!” Azelma hissed.   
“Shut up, ‘Zel.”  
“Sometimes I’m lucky to be an only child,” Cosette muttered. “But other times I’m really lonely. But I’m not an only child now. I’ve got Azelma and Èponine.”  
“And Gavroche!” I said.   
“Yes, and Gavroche,” Cosette corrected herself. “My apologies.”  
I smiled at her. “It’s fine. Everyone forgets about little Gavroche. Including my mother.” I said the last part really quietly. I didn’t want Maman hearing that I was mad that she ignored her son.  
But why wouldn’t I be mad that she was ignoring Gavroche? He was just as much of a person as I was, and he needed even more love and care because he was a baby. It was unfair. Maman treated Azelma and me amazing, but she ignored Gavroche. And to a little girl like me, that was unforgivable. Everyone deserved love, didn’t they? Maybe it would be me that had to give it to him.   
Good grief. I can’t stay on topic for just one second, can I?   
Marius turned to me. “You will write to me, won’t you?” he asked. “I really don’t want to lose my new friends after just finding them. I have very few friends, and I don’t want to lose the ones I just found, if I can help it.”  
“Of course!” I said, hardly hesitating. Looking back, I probably should’ve waited a little longer before shouting my answer, but whatever. I was excited to be able to keep in touch with my friend. I wouldn’t be lonely anymore, and me and Cosette could keep in touch with our best friend. Wasn’t that just amazing? “I need to give you my address,” I said.   
“Maman says not to give our address to strangers,” Azelma scolded. I glared at her. “What? We don’t want anyone to come and kill us while we sleep.”  
Geez. Dark much, ‘Zelma?   
“Marius isn’t a stranger!” I said. “He’s me and Cosette’s best friend. And we’d rather not lose touch with him.” He’s one person who can actually tolerate me, I added silently. Not many people liked me. and why would they? I was a thief. And I would always be a thief. To find someone who liked me was rare. I had to hold on to that.   
Maybe I’m really dark as well. Comes from being a Thenardier, I guess.   
“Let me go grab a pencil and a couple sheets of paper so I can write my address down. I know you won’t be able to remember it,” I said. Marius rolled his eyes. “What? I know you well enough. You’re going to forget all of it.”  
He glared at me for a second before saying, “Okay, maybe you’re not quite wrong. I will forget everything if you don’t write it down. Are there pencils around the inn?”  
“What kind of inn doesn’t have pencils?” I said, flinging open the door.   
“Èponine, are you done playing already? I thought you’d want to stay out longer with that new friend of yours,” Maman said from her seat at her sewing machine.  
I shook my head. “No, ma’am! I just had to come in and get a few pieces of paper and a pencil. I’m giving Marius our address,” I said, hugging her. Maman smiled.  
“Alright, darling. You do remember our address, right? I don’t want you to give him the wrong one.”  
“Of course, Maman! 3791 Lane Boulanger,” I said.  
“Correct. Now, go on. Give that dear boy your address, and tell him he’s welcome to write to you whenever he very well pleases.” Maman then turned back to her sewing machine and I walked back outside, ready to exchange addresses with my new best friend.   
“You write yours first. Ladies first. I’m a good gentleman,” Marius said. I rolled my eyes. Being a gentleman at five years old was overrated. Once you got older, it started mattering, but as a kid? Nah. Nobody would thank you anyway.   
I wrote my address in scribbly handwriting that I prayed Marius could read, then handed him the sheet of paper. “Read it back to me so I know that it’s right,” I commanded, slightly paranoid that I’d written it wrong. He did so, and it was the right address. I sighed in relief. Thank God! I was able to keep in touch with my best friend.  
“Okay, hand me the pencil,” Marius said, reaching out for it. I stuck it in his hands, point first. “What? You trying to stab me or something?” he teased, flipping the pencil around so it was aimed toward the paper.  
“Maybe,” I retorted, giggling.   
“You’d never do that.”  
“Maybe I would.”  
“And definitely you wouldn’t.”  
“That doesn’t make any sense.”  
“Shut up, ‘Ponine.”   
I groaned. Marius could be so weird sometimes, and that was one of those times. He was in the middle of writing his address in hard-to-read handwriting when a man with thick white hair and a scruffy beard approached and seized Marius’s collar.   
“Marius Pontmercy! What do you think you are doing?” he snapped. His voice was deep and kind of gravelly, one of those voices that made somebody hard to trust. I watched as Marius’s eyes went as wide as golf balls, and mine probably did, too. Who was this man, and what did he want with my best friend?  
“I’m sorry!” was all Marius was able to squeak out before the man started talking again.  
“What are you doing down here with these, these—urchins?” he snarled. “You’re too good for them, Marius. We must get going, you know. And how dare you walk away from me? I have raised you, you know.” That’s when it hit me. This must’ve been Marius’s grandfather who didn’t know how to care for a child.  
“They’re my best friends! That’s Èponine, that’s Azelma, and that’s Cosette,” Marius explained. “Èponine invited me to play.”  
“Yes, sir, it’s all my fault!” I said, willingly taking the blame. Marius couldn’t get hurt. Not because of something I did. I may’ve only known him for a few hours, but I’d already take a bullet for Marius, and this was kind of like a bullet.   
Except neither of us would die this time. Hopefully.  
Marius’s grandfather glared at me. “It’s not your fault. We wouldn’t have this problem if my idiot grandson wouldn’t wander around so much.” I winced. It hurt me to hear Marius dragged through the dirt like that. “Now, come along, boy. We must get back to Paris. And once we get there, you are not to leave your room until I say you can.”   
“Yes, sir,” Marius said, sounding resigned.  
“Good.” With that, he set Marius down and grabbed his hand. “Come along. You don’t need to be around these urchins any longer.” He spat the word urchins as if it was poison on his lips, which hurt, but not as much as having my best friend ripped away from me.  
“Write me!” Marius shouted. I tilted my head, trying to remind him that he never finished writing his address. He shook his head. “Or, I’ll write you. Keep watch!” he corrected. I watched his silhouette grow smaller and smaller against the horizon until he was gone completely, leaving a hole in my heart.   
How could this have happened? How could a friendship have been broken so quickly?   
How could I have lost the only friend I’d ever had before I’d even truly gotten to know him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good grief, I feel kind of evil. I ripped their entire friendship to shreds! But don't fear yet, they've got each other's addresses. And I'm going to shred your hearts even more soon when I write this chapter from Marius's perspective! Ha, I feel so evil. I love this feeling.


	10. Chapter Ten: Marius

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marius gives Eponine his address + a bit of fluff and drama

Even after her mother left and even after she was told that she was going to live with the Thenardier sisters, Cosette was still crying. Èponine seemed rather upset about this, thinking that Cosette wasn’t excited to live with her. Of course, I knew better. She just wanted her mother back.   
And why wouldn’t she? I knew what it was like to lose my mother. It was honestly the worst feeling in the world, though it was probably worse for Cosette. She had the knowledge that her mother had chosen to give her up, but my mother had simply died. She had the burden of knowing that her mother chose to get rid of her, even though it was to give her a better life.   
Although Èponine was grinning, Azelma looked annoyed by this whole situation. Once their mother left, she revealed her true feelings. “She’ll take all Maman’s love from me!” Azelma wailed.   
Shut up! You’re being a brat! I thought, but quickly silenced my inner narrative.   
“Oh, get over it, Azelma,” Èponine said, voicing my thoughts. “Maman won’t love anyone more than she loves you. Including me. You’re her favorite.”   
“I was before you got that stupid sapphire and gave it to her!”  
“Shut up, ‘Zel.”  
“Sometimes I’m lucky to be an only child,” Cosette said to me. I nodded. “But other times I’m really lonely. But I’m not an only child now. I’ve got Azelma and Èponine.”  
“And Gavroche!” Èponine yelped.   
“Yes, and Gavroche,” Cosette corrected. “My apologies.”  
Èponine smiled. “It’s fine. Everyone forgets about little Gavroche.” She then lowered her voice. “Including my mother.” She seemed bitter about this.  
And why wouldn’t she be? Speaking as someone who’s been ignored, it would hurt to know that my sibling was being scorned in favor of another one of my siblings. Of course, being an only child, I didn’t quite have this problem. But either way, it made me irrationally angry that one of Èponine’s siblings was being ignored.   
I then turned to Èponine. “You will write to me, won’t you?” I asked anxiously. “I really don’t want to lose my new friends after just finding them. I have very few friends, and I don’t want to lose the ones I just found, if I can help it.”  
“Of course!” Èponine said, hardly letting me finish my sentence. Immediately after, she looked kind of shameful, as if she felt bad for jumping at the opportunity to keep in touch with me. Oh well. At least it showed that she cared about me despite barely knowing me. “I need to give you my address.”  
“Maman says not to give our address to strangers,” Azelma said. I stifled the urge to roll my eyes, but ‘Ponine glared at her. “What? We don’t want anyone to come and kill us while we sleep.”   
“Marius isn’t a stranger!” Èponine yelped. “He’s me and Cosette’s best friend. And we’d rather not lose touch with him.” She then disappeared into her own thoughts again, as usual. What was she thinking about? Hopefully it was happy. My best friend deserved as much happiness as everyone else, if not more. I had to make sure she was always happy.  
“Let me go grab a pencil and a couple sheets of paper so I can write my address down. I know you won’t be able to remember it,” Èponine laughed. I rolled my eyes. “What? I know you well enough. You’re going to forget all of it.”  
I glared at her for a second before breaking down and saying, “Okay, maybe you’re not quite wrong. I will forget everything if you don’t write it down. Are there pencils around the inn?”   
She looked at me as if I was an imbecile. “What kind of inn doesn’t have pencils?” she said, disappearing into the door of the inn.   
I then turned to Cosette. “Are you excited to be living with the Thenardiers? I mean, I know it’s going to be fun, having Èponine and ‘Zelma for sisters,” I said. “I wish they were my sisters.”  
“I’m pretty excited. The only thing I would change would be that they could come live with me and my mother. She’s probably a little better than their mother.” She froze for a second. “Sorry, that was really rude.”  
“You’re not wrong. Our mother’s not very nice sometimes, but we love her anyway,” Azelma said. “I do, at least. ‘Ponine might not.”   
Just then, Èponine reappeared from inside the house, smiling. I grinned back at her.   
“You write yours first,” I said. “Ladies first. I’m a good gentleman.” Èponine rolled her eyes. What? Was my chivalry not appreciated in Montfermeil. Back in Paris, people would’ve called me adorable for saying things like that. Then again, Montfermeil wasn’t Paris. Èponine would be happier if it was, though. I could see how she longed for the city in every breath. And I would get her there, just like I promised.   
She wrote her address in almost unreadable handwriting before handing me the slip of paper. “Read it back to me so I know that it’s right,” she demanded, but I knew she just wanted to know that it was right. I recited it back to her: 3791 Lane Boulanger. She sighed in relief, letting me know that it was right, and thank God for that. I was able to keep in touch with the best (and only) friend I’d ever had.   
“Okay, hand me the pencil,” I said as I reached for it. She shoved it at me, point first, and aimed right at my chest! “What, you trying to stab me or something?” I asked, flipping the pencil so it was aimed toward the paper.  
“Maybe,” she giggled.   
“You’d never do that.”  
“Maybe I would.”  
“And definitely you wouldn’t.”  
“That doesn’t make any sense.”  
“Shut up, ‘Ponine.”  
Èponine groaned, probably thinking I was strange. She did that a lot. I was in the middle of writing my address in inexcusably bad handwriting when a hand grabbed me by the collar and yanked me backwards, sending my pencil clattering to the ground.   
“Marius Pontmercy! What do you think you’re doing?” the man snapped. He had a deep, gravelly voice, and I recognized it the minute I heard it. Grand-père. Èponine’s eyes went wide, and mine certainly did as well. Everything was going downhill rather quickly.   
“I’m sorry!” I squeaked before Grand-père had a chance to speak again.  
“What are you doing down here with these, these—urchins?” he snarled. “You’re too good for them, Marius. We must get going, you know. And how dare you walk away from me? I have raised you, you know.” Darn. Now Èponine knew just how bad the situation with my grandfather was, and she’d pity me, no doubt about it.  
“They’re my best friends! That’s Èponine, that’s Azelma, and that’s Cosette,” I explained, trying to avoid getting angry. “Èponine invited me to play.”  
“Yes, sir, it’s all my fault!” Èponine said, taking the blame without a second thought. I winced. Now Grand-père would be angry with my best friends instead of me, and that couldn’t happen. I needed a way to convince him that it wasn’t my fault.  
Grand-père glared at Èponine, and I knew that he didn’t believe that it was her fault. Good. “It’s not your fault. We wouldn’t have this problem if my idiot grandson wouldn’t wander around so much.” Èponine winced. “Now, come along, boy. We must get back to Paris. And once we get there, you are not to leave your room until I say you can.”   
“Yes, sir,” I said, ruling that it was better not to argue.   
“Good.” With that, he set me down and grabbed my hand. “Come along. You don’t need to be around these urchins any longer.” He spat the word urchin as if it were a curse, as if he were condemning my friends, which made me furious. They were better to me than he would ever be.   
“Write me!” I shouted. Èponine tilted her head, which reminded me that I never finished writing my address. “Or, I’ll write you!” I corrected. “Keep watch!” I watched Èponine, Cosette, and Azelma’s silhouettes fade into that of the inn until all that was left was the skyline, black and empty, like the space in my heart where they’d been ripped.   
Why did Grand-père have to do this? Why did he have to come and take me away from the people who cared about me?  
Why did I have to lose my only friends in the life I didn’t choose to live?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, Marius is such a cutie. I want him to be my son. But then he gets too old and is essentially my brother. But Eponine is my sister. Wow. That got weird fast. Also, that last line. Dang, self. That was impressive.


	11. Chapter Eleven: Eponine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eponine reflects on how things could've gone so wrong so quickly.

I couldn’t believe my eyes. My best and only friend had just been carried away, and I was powerless to stop it from happening. How did things like that happen to people like me? I thought I was a good person. I had been working so hard to be good. And why did I have someone I cared about ripped from me so suddenly and without any mercy from his family?   
Of course, I had no time to be shocked. My mother pounced on Cosette, shrieking like a bat. She may’ve been a rather large woman, but my mother’s shriek was the shrillest sound I’d ever heard. It was almost a higher pitch than mine, and I was a five-year-old. Weird, huh?   
“Go put on these clothes!” Maman shouted, throwing an old, too-small dress and bonnet of mine at Cosette. She caught them, her blue eyes wide. She then pointed at a broom propped against the doorframe. “Pick up that broom!” Cosette whimpered and ran toward it, still carrying her rags. The broom was taller than her by a long shot, and it looked like it was going to make her too top-heavy and make her fall over.   
Pity stabbed at my heart as I watched Cosette lift the broom, which couldn’t weigh too much less than she did, if it in fact weighed less than her. She almost fell over, just as I’d predicted. I wanted to go help her, but the minute I stepped toward her, Maman glared at me, and I had to step back so I didn’t offend my mother.  
“You will be our housemaid,” Maman said. I looked up at her.   
“Isn’t that bad, Maman?” I asked. “You told her maman that we would take good care of her and that she would be treated well. You should treat her as well as you treat me. If you can’t do that for her mother, do it for me. Cosette’s my best friend. You can’t hurt her.” Not only was I scared for Cosette by this point, I was scared for myself. If she was treating someone else’s child like this, how would she start treating me? I was her own daughter. She could be meaner to me with fewer consequences. I had to stop her before she went over the edge and started hurting me or Azelma.   
“You have no time for friendship when you’re a Thenardier, Èponine,” Maman said. “You have to be crafty. Only advantageous, career-related relationships help you be craftier. Petty friendships like the one you and Cosette have are completely useless. Now, you and that Marius boy? That could be good for us. Stay friends with him.”  
“But I’m a little girl, Maman! Why can’t I have friends like every other girl in France?” I said. Not to mention, I had no idea what advantageous meant at my tender age of five.   
“Because you’re not like every other girl in France. You are Èponine Adelise Thenardier, and that makes you special,” Maman said. She then turned away from me, going back into the house and taking Cosette with her. There was something about her tone that made me certain that arguing with her was a stupid decision. It usually was, for that matter.  
I started to go after her, since I came to my senses and decided that my friendship with Cosette was completely worth having my mother angry with me, when Azelma stopped me.   
“Don’t try to play the hero, Èponine. I know how you are. You want to fix this,” Azelma said. “You want to save your little friend. Well, I don’t want you to. I want her to do my chores, so I don’t have to.”  
I glared at her. How could she be so selfish? Cosette was her friend, just like she was mine. How was that friendship already gone? She was no better than Maman when it came to the way she was treating my best friend.   
“How could you act like that? Cosette was your friend too, you know. And now you’re treating her like garbage,” I snarled, glaring at Azelma.   
“Whatever. If you’re not taking advantage of the fact that we now have someone to do our chores for us, that’s your loss.” With that, Azelma turned and skipped off, but there was a bit of anger to her seemingly-cheerful skipping.   
A few hours of me standing outside and playing with Harmonie, who I’d been neglecting for pretty much the whole day, passed. Then it got dark, which spoiled my fun.   
I decided that instead of staying in the dark, which kind of scared me (what? You never know what’s hiding in the dark), I would go inside and see if Cosette needed any help with her chores. After all, helping a friend with their chores was something a good friend would do. And I was a good friend, wasn’t I?   
“Hi, Cosette!” I said, smiling at her so she wouldn’t think I was about to become like my mother and sister and be mean to her. She looked up at me from where she was crouching and scrubbing the floor.   
“Look, if you’re going to treat me the same way Azelma and your mother are, I kindly ask that you save it and move on,” Cosette said. I could tell that she was trying to sound angry, but it wasn’t working. I shook my head.  
“Why would I treat you like they treated you? You’re my best friend too, Cosette. They don’t understand friendship like we do. In fact, I want to help you with your chores, so we can go hang out. And you can come sleep in my room once we’re finished and Maman tells us to sleep,” I said.   
Cosette smiled. “Thank you so much. If you would try and find another sponge and help me scrub, that would be amazing,” she said. I nodded and walked into the kitchen.   
Finding a sponge was easy. It was getting back to Cosette with it without anyone noticing that was the hard part. I tiptoed back to the room where she was cleaning, the secondary dining hall, and sat down next to her. “I got one!” I said, smiling.   
She grinned at me. “Thanks so much for your help, ‘Ponine. You’re such a good friend. But stay quiet. Your mom might hear us, and I know neither of us want that to happen.”  
“True,” I said.   
However, it seemed that we weren’t quiet enough. Maman came storming in when we were about halfway through cleaning the room.  
“Èponine Adelise Thenardier!” she shouted. Uh oh. The second time Maman had used my middle name in one day. This wasn’t good. Last time it wasn’t quite terrible, but this was going to be bad.   
I threw the sponge in the bucket and stood up like I had been yelling at Cosette, pointing at her accusingly. Maman came storming in, glaring daggers at all of us. She was about ready to explode when I shouted, “Cosette! What do you think you’re doing? You left all these spots dirty!” Poor Cosette, however, was looking up at me with tears in her eyes, looking betrayed. Thinking Maman wouldn’t see me, I winked at her, trying to signal that I hadn’t tried to hurt her.  
Of course, me being me, I thought completely wrong. She saw my wink. “Èponine! Were you helping the brat clean?” she asked. I shook my head, but my mother could see that my hands were dripping. “Yes, you were! Your hands are wet from the sponge!”   
I ran them against my dress. “No, they’re not!” Of course, I knew that this was useless. She already knew that I’d been helping Cosette.   
But didn’t she understand that a good friend helped their friend? Of course, she didn’t. Maman had never had any good friends. She was too mean.   
“Go to your room, Èponine. And you’ll be going to bed without dinner tonight,” Maman snapped. “And as for you, Cosette…” Her voice trailed off, but I heard a loud thud! followed by crying. Maman must have hit her with something. Probably the broom handle. She always spanked me with the broom handle when I got into trouble. In fact, it was odd that she didn’t hit me with it for helping Cosette.  
Oh, well. At least my only punishment was going to bed without dinner.  
I sat down at the little desk in my room, smiling. I didn’t have to sit here and suffer, even though I’d been punished. I could do something meaningful! I could start writing to Marius!   
I pulled the little scrap of paper with part of his address out of the small pocket of my pinafore. There was a small number and half of a street name scribbled on it. 09 Rue de Roi. Of course he lived on King’s Road. That’s where all the fancy houses were.   
Dear Marius, I wrote. That was a pretty good place to start, wasn’t it? Every letter needed a good opening, and that was one. Then I encountered a…small problem. I had nothing else to say! I couldn’t tell him about Cosette becoming our housemaid. Then he’d think my entire family was messed up and his grandfather would see it and he would never ever get to visit me ever again. Or he would be banned from writing me. That would be worse.   
I’m sorry for getting you into trouble. I didn’t know your grandfather would react so badly to you coming and playing with me. There. That was a good sentence, wasn’t it? He wouldn’t get mad at me if he knew I was sorry for what I did by accident.   
After I got that first sentence down, the words just kept flowing and flowing until I hit the very end of the letter and signed my name in fancy cursive. Èponine Thenardier. Maman taught me and Azelma how to write our names in cursive, and ever since then, I signed everything I needed to sign with that signature. It looked so pretty, unlike most things in Montfermeil.   
Once I finished the letter, I decided that it was about time for me to go to sleep. I blew out my candle and put the lid on my inkwell.   
Another day in the record books, and this was one of the most memorable ones yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, 'Ponine. She's so precious and innocent. I love her. And I feel really MEAN because of what I had to do to Cosette and Eponine's friendship. I'm sorry, guys! Also, I'm sorry this took so long to post. Homework and the fact I had four tests in one day took over.


	12. Chapter Twelve: Marius

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marius is very desperate and slightly angry.

“Why did you run off?” Grand-père demanded. I looked away from him, not wanting to meet his icy blue eyes. They had an ability to pierce your soul like a spear, those eyes of his. It was weird, in all honesty. “Why?” he screamed again, causing me to shudder. However, I still didn’t look at him. Looking at Grand-père when he was angry never ever ended well.  
He continued yelling at me through almost the entire carriage ride, which I opted to ignore. Getting berated for a little under an hour is a little taxing on a five-year-old boy. Honestly, Grand-père was awful. How could he think I wouldn’t wander away to go play with someone my age? He should’ve listened to Nicolette and not taken me with him in the first place.  
Although…if he hadn’t taken me with him, I wouldn’t have new best friends in Èponine, Cosette, and to a lesser extent, Azelma. I wouldn’t have had the best day of my life. I would still be a lonely kid in Paris with no friends and no future. So maybe it was a good thing that I got dragged on this godforsaken trip.   
I spent almost the entire ride sitting in silence while I got yelled at before Grand-père suddenly had a change in heart. “Did you have fun with your new friends, Marius?” he asked, seeming genuinely interested in my reply. Interesting. This could be a good change. If he was nice to me, I’d have a less awful life. And heaven knows I needed a less awful life.   
“Yes, sir,” I said, trying to be polite. Maybe this relationship wasn’t beyond patching. Maybe. And maybe he’ll make it so I’ll be able to write Èponine. It’s doubtful, but maybe I’ll get to write to her. He knows that I care about her, I added silently. I ran my fingers across the tiny slip of paper in my pocket, assuring myself that it was there. I couldn’t lose this. Not today. Not ever. This was important to me.   
“Good. Because you’re not going on any more business trips. You get into too much trouble, Marius Pontmercy.”  
And we were back to normal. Maybe things didn’t ever change, I guess. Things like that, didn’t at least. Familial relationships were a constant in life.  
Or they should be, at least.   
When we arrived back at the house, I ran inside immediately, not wishing to speak to anybody. Nicolette called my name and waved at me, but I ignored even her. I wanted to be alone. My grandfather had managed to anger me to no end. And it wasn’t even that easy to make me mad! He was just limiting my freedoms, like usual.  
When I got older, I was going to fight for my freedoms. No adult would ever tell me what to do again. I would get to live my life the way I wanted to. That’s the way life should be. Nobody telling you how to live or what to do. Freedom of choice. And I was willing to fight for it if I had to.   
Unfortunately, I couldn’t do that at age five, so I was just sitting alone in my room, fuming at my grandfather for ruining my life.   
Eventually, Nicolette walked up the stairs. “Master Pontmercy?” she asked, reverting to the title she used when I first moved in with my grandfather.   
I turned around to look at her, and it was only then that I realized how red my face was. I’d been crying from anger, and it made me look weak. I guess that’s what I was. A weak five-year-old boy who was pouting because his grandfather wouldn’t let him stay in touch with somebody he’d known for less than twenty-four hours.   
“Bonjour, Nicolette,” I said, trying to put on a smile.   
“You’ve been crying,” she observed, taking a seat next to me and lifting me onto her lap. Just like my mother used to do when I was upset. I didn’t want her to replace my mother, but for some reason, this was comforting to me. Nicolette was like a second mother to me, after all. “What’s hurt you, darling?”  
“What do you think?” I asked, looking up at her.   
“I’m guessing it’s something to do with that grandfather of yours,” she said, sighing. “Goodness, Marius, can you not get through one day without getting into some kind of fight with him?”  
“He always starts it!”  
“Well, can you not go a day without reacting badly to something he says?”  
“If he can go a day without being rude to me, I’d gladly go a day without fighting with him. I hate fighting, you know.” She laughed and rolled her eyes. “What? Do you not believe me?”   
“No, I do. I don’t believe in your grandfather being the cause for all these fights, though. I’ve seen you. You ignore him, and you know that doesn’t work. But all that aside, how was your day?” Nicolette asked, smiling at me.   
My face instantly brightened. “It was amazing! I made three new friends named Èponine, Cosette, and Azelma. They’re so amazing and I got their address! They’re all sisters now. Cosette’s not related to them by birth but her maman had to leave her in Montfermeil with Èponine’s family because she had to go get a job in Montreuil-sur-Mer in some factory. But I got their address! It’s 3791 Lane Boulanger.”  
“Are you going to write to them?” Nicolette asked, though she knew the answer full well.  
“Of course! Why would I not want to write to them? They’re my best friends, Nicolette. You know that.”  
“I guess I do, don’t I?” She kissed the top of my head. “I guess you’d better get to writing, huh, Marius? Go get started. I have to go make dinner for you and Monsieur Gillenormand.”   
“Oh, alright. I guess I’ll go work on a letter to Èponine and Cosette,” I said, though I wasn’t as disappointed as I sounded. I was so ready to get back in touch with them. They were my best friends, after all.   
I sat down in my little chair at my much too large desk and started writing, smiling. Dear Èponine, I scribbled, then frowned at my handwriting. It was inexcusable! However, that gave me something to talk about, didn’t it? Sorry about my handwriting. It’s pretty bad, isn’t it? Oh, well. At least it’s halfway legible. There. That was a sentence. It was something to get me started.   
I continued writing for about another half-hour or so before I finished the letter and sealed it with a little wax seal imprinted with an M. I couldn’t remember when I got it, but I was fairly certain it was a gift from Grand-père. His gifts were always practical like that. Something that would come in handy later in life, though it wasn’t always helpful in my childhood.   
I scampered downstairs, ready to mail my letter, when I ran right into my grandfather. Splendid.   
“Where are you going?” he demanded, glaring at me.   
“To mail a letter to my new best friend,” I said, continuing walking toward the door. He lunged to stop me with Nicolette, bless her beautiful kind heart, came barreling toward my grandfather.  
“Monsieur Gillenormand, please! Let the boy keep in touch with his friend. Can’t you see that he very clearly cares for her? He just wants to talk to his friend. And besides, you don’t have to worry about him getting lost if he’s just sending her letters. Please, monsieur. You keep him from doing so many things to prevent him from getting into trouble. Just let him do this,” Nicolette said, smiling at my grandfather.   
I could see the conflict burning in my grandfather’s brain. “Oh, alright,” he said. “Go mail your stupid letter to that friend of yours. It can’t hurt for you to have a friend. After all, you’re such a lonely boy.”  
I grinned up at him. “Merci, Grand-père!” I shouted, running out into the street and putting my letter in the mailbox.  
All that was left was to wait for a response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GAH. I LOVE MARIUS. HE IS PRECIOUS AND I LOVE HIM AND GAH. WHY. IS. HE. SO. CUTE. 
> 
> in other news, I'm about to cry over Samantha Barks's outstanding music. But lol, that's nothing new.


	13. Chapter Thirteen: Eponine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eponine has an interesting experience out in Montfermeil.

Two years had passed since that wonderful day when I met Marius Pontmercy, and I was now seven and ‘Zelma had just turned five. She was just as childish as she was when she was three, in case you were wondering.  
We were wandering around Montfermeil, which was still the sleepiest little town in all of France, admiring all the Christmas displays, when Azelma went running off toward a little shop that had been there as long as I could remember. Its displays were never anything special, but Azelma seemed completely enamored by something in the window.  
Enamored. That’s a huge word. I learned it from Marius a few days ago. He knows all kinds of big words like enamored. He’s still my best friend, by the way. I don’t know what else anyone would think about me having a guy friend who I only correspond with through letters, but he’s definitely still the best friend I could ever ask for.   
Correspond is another word I learned from Marius. It’s too big for me to ever learn by myself.   
I followed after my little sister, trying to find out what was impressing her so much. And what I saw was absolutely amazing.  
There was a doll resting in the window. One of the most beautiful I’d ever seen. She had long dark curls and small, Seine-blue eyes that opened and closed when you picked her up or set her down. She was the best doll I’d ever seen. I knew I had to have her.   
After all, Christmas was soon, and dolls were perfect gifts for good little girls…   
What? I didn’t say that last part. That never happened.   
“Èponine, we have to have that doll. Look how pretty she is! I think I’ll name her Adela. Or maybe Albree. I’m not quite sure yet,” Azelma said. “Do you think Maman will get her for us for Christmas? She has to! Maman gets us everything we want, after all. I think she’ll be our Christmas present this year.”  
“Maybe,” I said. “But maybe not. There are better presents than a doll.” However, this was all a bit of an act. Secretly, in the deepest parts of my mind, I was desperate for that doll. It was just so beautiful, and I’d always been a sucker for beautiful things, seeing as Paris, the most beautiful city in the world, was still near and dear to my little heart.   
Azelma looked ready to bite my head off for saying that there were better presents than a doll (she was still obsessed with them) when we heard Maman yelling at us from the Sergeant de Waterloo. “Èponine! Azelma! Time to come home!” she shouted.   
“But Maman, it’s early,” I whined, looking up at her. She looked pointedly from me to Cosette, who was humming a little song about her fantasy land. Her castle on a cloud, as she told me a few months ago. Maman must’ve been about to send Cosette out to run some kind of errand and didn’t want me helping. Maman didn’t really trust me not to help Cosette with her tasks, even though I hadn’t done that in almost a month.   
Unlike some people, I want to be a good friend. I want to help people with their struggles. I don’t want to be like Maman. She’s cruel to Cosette, my best girl friend. Marius is my best friend overall, but Cosette is a pretty dang close second.   
Azelma and I arrived at the door and walked in. I looked at Cosette, whose blue eyes which used to sparkle with happiness were now sparkling with tears, trying to signal that she was still my best friend, but she didn’t meet my gaze. She thought I was no better than Maman. And it made me feel like a piece of trash, let me be the first to tell you. But I had to pretend we weren’t friends, so my mother wouldn’t hurt either of us.  
After all, we all remember what happened when I tried to help Cosette clean the floor, no matter how much we wish we could forget it.   
“I’m sending the girl out to fetch water from the well in the woods. I didn’t want to run the risk of darling Èponine here trying to help her, so I brought both of you home,” Maman said. Of course. She’d rather have Cosette suffer alone in the woods than have the job done faster and send me with her. Classic Maman, I suppose.   
“Okay! Does that mean we can still play inside, though? And guess what, Maman?” Azelma said.  
“What, darling?” Maman answered, kneeling down to look into my little sister’s eyes.  
“Èponine and I were walking around and we saw this pretty doll in a shop window! Can we have it for Christmas, please?” she begged. I rolled my eyes. Azelma was so desperate for new things that it was almost funny.   
“Oh, I’ll look into it. And Èponine, what do you want for Christmas? I know you’re not really one to ask for new things, but you’ve got to want something.” Maman then turned around. “Still there, Cosette?” The little girl was shaking like there was no tomorrow, her eyes still wide. “Your tears will do you no good! I told you, go and fetch some water from the well in the wood.” Cosette then turned away and sprinted off into the nighttime, holding the humongous bucket like her life depended on it.   
“I’m not quite sure yet,” I said, trying to change the subject. “Do I have a letter from Marius, Maman?”   
“Oh, that you do! Here you go. It came in this morning. And there’s a package attached. Your boyfriend must’ve remembered to send you a Christmas present,” Maman teased. She then handed me the letter, and the package attached to it.   
I felt my face turn completely scarlet. “He’s not my boyfriend, Maman,” I muttered under my breath.   
“You wish he was!” Azelma yelped. “Your face is completely red. Means you’re in love with him!”   
I laughed. “Not even close, ‘Zel. Being in love with my best friend? Yuck! That would be like being in love with my brother. Anyway, I’m gonna go read that letter now. Let me know if anything interesting happens,” I said before I turned to go upstairs and read Marius’s letter and open the present he sent me. Hopefully it wasn’t anything too stupid.  
It wasn’t. He’d gotten me a little necklace with a half-heart shape that said ‘best’ on it. But where was the other half? Maybe he’d explain in the letter why there was only half a heart with me in Montfermeil.   
I peeled open the envelope, careful to preserve the little wax circle holding it closed. What was it called again? A seal? That’s what Marius always called it. He always used a different seal every time he wrote me. I had them all on a shelf above my desk in my room.   
It used to be Gavroche’s room. But one day last year, ‘Zel and I came home and Gavroche was gone. Maman never told us where he went. Just that he had to go away with somebody else. I haven’t seen him since. I want him to come home, but it’s really nice that I have a room to myself. But I’d rather have my brother back than a room to myself.   
I unfolded the letter, smiling as I looked at Marius’s scribbly handwriting. It still hadn’t gotten much neater from when we were five and he wrote part of his address on the piece of paper I stole from my kitchen.   
The letter was pretty short, since he was still trying to keep our correspondence (another big word from Marius, derived from correspond) on the down-low from his Grand-père. But it explained why I only had half a necklace, which is good. The other half, which said ‘friends,’ was in Paris with Marius. So, in a way, I was connected to Paris, my favorite city ever, through this necklace.  
It was pretty cool when you worded it like that.   
I was about to go downstairs and get some paper, ink, and a quill to write Marius back when I saw a strange man sitting in our living room talking to Maman and Papa with Cosette on one knee. He was pretty tall, and wearing a top hat. He had a kind face. Was he Cosette’s Papa? He sure looked like he was going to be a Papa to her.   
I was entranced (that’s another Marius word too) by the sight until Maman saw me. Her face suddenly went hard, and she gestured for me to go back to my room and do something else. But what could I do?   
I just went back to my room and sat there in complete and utter boredom for about two hours until Maman walked up to my room, looking relieved and upset all at the same time.  
“Cosette’s gone,” she announced.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, there goes Cosette. She gone, my dudes. She gone. And now Eponine has no way of contacting her. This chapter is kinda messy, but at least it's here.


	14. Chapter Fourteen: Marius

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marius looks back at the day he spent with his best friends.

Once again, I was sitting in my bedroom, reading like the complete nerd I was. Two years had passed since I first met Èponine, Azelma, and Cosette, and I missed them more than I had ever missed anybody except Maman, but that was a whole different case.   
We had sent countless letters by this point, and I still had all of them. Of course, there were a few times when I almost lost them all, but Nicolette, bless her soul, managed to keep Grand-père from destroying my letters.   
Nicolette is still my favorite person in my house. She’s become a good almost-Maman to me.   
I sat there reading and reading for ages until I finished my book. Then, I fell into a state of immense boredom. What was there to do in my grandfather’s house? it was honestly the most boring place in all of France. More boring than prison.  
Of course, his house was essentially a prison for me. I wasn’t allowed to leave, and it certainly didn’t pass any tests on not being an institution. His house was awful for a little boy like me. I wanted to be a kid like Èponine and Azelma were allowed to, but unfortunately, I was trapped in this house that didn’t care about me, essentially an adult trapped in a small body.  
Eventually I decided that I was going to reread some of the old letters Èponine had sent me over the past two years. Hopefully that would be somewhat fun for me.   
Or it would just make me sad because I missed my best friends. Either way, it was something to do, and I was desperate for that.  
I sat down and pulled the box of letters out from under my bed. They all were in their proper envelopes, stamped and dated properly. I smiled to see how nicely they were organized. The oldest letters were on the bottom, and the newest one, from just three days ago, was on the top. Naturally, I decided to read them in chronological order and lifted them all from the box except the one on the very bottom in the leftmost stack. It was labeled with a date two years prior to the current one. Definitely the first letter.  
I opened it up and pulled out the little piece of paper with Èponine’s scribbly handwriting. I almost laughed because of how awful our handwriting was when we were five. It had most certainly improved since them, trust me on that. I smiled to see her previously formal greeting. It had evolved from “Dear Marius” to “Hiya, Marius!” as our friendship grew. Back when we first started writing, we were so formal toward each other, but now, it was just simple greetings before we started writing and writing about whatever was bothering us at the time.   
“‘Dear Marius,” I said, reading the letter aloud. “I’m sorry for getting you into trouble. I didn’t know your grandfather would react so badly to you coming and playing with me. Anyway, now that that’s out of the way, I’m so excited that we’re allowed to write each other! Maman is really excited that I have a friend that’s not related to me in any way. She’s also excited that it’s a friend who’s not Cosette. I got in big trouble for trying to help her with her chores a few days ago. I had to go to bed without dinner! Does your grandfather ever make you go to bed without dinner?’”  
I laughed. Grand-père made me go to bed without dinner fairly regularly. Any time I did something that he didn’t want me to do, I was off to bed without having anything to eat. Sometimes it was miserable, but other times, I wasn’t even hungry in the first place and didn’t even plan to each much for dinner. So, yeah.   
“‘I hope he doesn’t.’” I continued reading the letter aloud, but though I could hear my voice saying it out loud, I could hear Èponine’s voice reading it in my head. It was weird. Nicolette said it was called echoic memory. She apparently had it too. It meant I was special.   
Was I special? I would never really know.   
“‘If he does, let me know and I’ll come to Paris and fight him.’” Once again, I burst out laughing. Èponine would do anything for me. After all, that’s what best friends do.  
“‘Anyway, I really enjoyed hanging out with you earlier. When will you next be in Montfermeil? I hope it’s soon. And I know Maman will give me the day off when you’re in town. She’s so happy that I have a friend. But I already mentioned that. I really miss you, though. I wish you lived nearby. Actually, I wish I lived in Paris. Then we could hang out every day!’”   
I continued reading a few of her letters until I realized how much I actually missed my friends. I thought I would be fine without them, but I was completely wrong. I met two absolutely amazing friends, and then I had to leave them. How could I not miss them?   
I didn’t just miss my friends themselves. I missed sitting there and making memories with them. I missed listening to Èponine talking and talking about Paris, which she called the city of her heart. I missed swinging with Èponine and Cosette. I missed listening to Èponine and Azelma arguing back and forth, believe it or not. And yes, I even missed watching Azelma pout and run off to play with her dolls. I missed every single thing about my best friends, and I’d give anything to spend another day with them.  
That was it. I had to go to Montfermeil again. It didn’t matter how I got there. I just had to go to that city and see my best friends again. Maybe Cosette would even have the day off when I went. Maybe Madame Thenardier would let her come spend time with me, her best friend.   
I ran downstairs, completely ignoring Nicolette’s warning not to run in the house as I sprinted down the stairs. Safety wasn’t nearly as important as seeing Èponine, Azelma, and Cosette was.   
“Grand-père!” I shouted, running into his office. “Grand-père, when is your next business trip to Montfermeil?”   
He turned to look at me with those piercing blue eyes of his. I know I mention them a lot, but seriously. They’re kind of terrifying. “Didn’t I tell you that you weren’t allowed on any more of my business trips?” he asked, his gaze hardening as he waited for my response.   
“Yes, but you don’t understand! My best friends live in Montfermeil, Grand-père. Can’t I go see them? I just want to see them for a few days. Even a few hours would work. I miss them a lot. Haven’t you ever had a friend you missed more than anything else?”   
He paused for a minute. “I miss your mother more than I miss anything else, and I’m living with that,” he said. “So I think you can live with missing your little friends in Montfermeil for a little while. Go back upstairs, Marius.”  
I wanted to cry. How could he act like this? And how dare he talk about my mother like that? He didn’t deserve to talk about my mother. Nobody deserved to talk about my mother. Not even me.   
I went back up to my room to sit in silence for the rest of the day.  
I had never missed my friends more than I had in that moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BABY MAAAARRRRIIIIUUUUSSSSSSS! Honestly, he's way too cute. I can't believe I used to not enjoy writing his chapters. But now I don't. Now I love him. Not as much as writing Eponine, but...still pretty great. Also, my word document is 50 pages long now! Yaya!


	15. Chapter Fifteen: Eponine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eponine finds out that she has to move.

I looked up at the inn, watching as Papa took down the cobweb-ridden sign. The place that had been my home for so long was my home no longer. The police were onto us scamming, and we had to move to a new house before we got arrested.  
Well, before Maman and Papa got arrested. Azelma and I were too young to go to jail. Hopefully.  
“Why must we go, Maman?” my seven-year-old sister asked (yes, two more years had passed). “I don’t want to move. And I don’t even know where we’re going!”  
“That’s true, Adelise. They have no idea where we’re moving to,” Papa commented from atop the ladder. “Should we tell them?”  
“Je ne sais pas, Alain. I don’t even know where we’re going to live. You’re the one with all the plans, ma cherie,” Maman said, looking up at Papa.   
I smiled at my parents. “I would like to know where we’re moving,” I said sweetly. “I have to send Marius a letter with my new address in it! That way, we’ll still be able to talk. After all, you don’t want me losing another best friend, do you?”  
I had been almost inconsolable when I found out that the man, Monsieur Valjean, Maman said his name was, had taken away Cosette. And they hadn’t bothered to get his address. Maman said that she was thankful to be rid of the girl, and that if they weren’t careful, he would’ve taken me too. But I wasn’t thankful that he took my best friend away. She was lost forever now. What was I supposed to do?   
I knew what I had to do. I had to not lose touch with Marius. He was the one friend I had left.  
“Well, I may as well tell you where you’re going to live for what may be the rest of your lives,” Papa said. We all looked up at him, beaming. I couldn’t wait to find out where we were going to live. Our new home. “We’re going to live in this apartment building called the Gorbeau House, in the fourth room. It’s located on the Rue de le Voleur.”  
“But where’s the Rue de le Voleur, Papa?” Azelma asked, tilting her head.   
“Well, I can go ahead and tell you that it’s somewhere much nicer than Montfermeil.” Well, that didn’t mean anything. Everywhere was much nicer than Montfermeil. “And I know that Èponine is going to be significantly happier in this new city than she is here.” Again, not saying much. I would be happier anywhere else than I would in Montfermeil.   
“Just tell me already!” I shouted, sounding like I was in significantly more pain than I really was. I had a tendency to overreact at that age.   
“Oh, alright,” Papa said. “We’re moving to Paris. That’s where the Gorbeau House and the Rue de le Voleur is.”   
I felt like my heart flew out of my chest and burst, splattering all over the ground.  
That’s a really gross visual. Let me rephrase: I felt so much happiness I could die. We were moving to my favorite city in the entire world! Paris! Sure, we may have been living in an awful tenement building (I knew of the Gorbeau House. Marius had talked about it in his letters), but we were living in Paris. That outweighed everything, I think.   
I ran back into the inn for the last time and grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil so I would be able to write a letter to Marius on the way to Paris. He would be so excited that I was moving! We’d finally be able to see each other again!   
“Okay, are we ready to go now?” Mama asked. “I can call for a carriage any time you need me to.”  
Papa looked at me and Azelma. “Are you ready, girls?” he asked, smiling. That was the first time my father had smiled at me in a while. We had gone back to stealing after Cosette was taken away, and when we had to steal, Papa never smiled at me and Azelma. He was always wanting us to take more. We were never good enough for him.   
But now, in Paris, we could be good enough for our father. He would finally love us like he used to when Cosette was around.  
Hopefully, at least.  
“I guess I’m ready,” Azelma said.   
“I know I am,” I said, grinning.   
“Oh, of course you are. After all, we are going to Paris,” Papa said, laughing. I was shocked. My father, laughing? He hadn’t laughed any time in the past two years. Of course, you really can’t laugh unless you smile, and he hadn’t done that either. So, perhaps this move would be good for somebody other than me.   
The carriage pulled up, but before we got in, Papa walked over to us. “Listen, girls. There’s one thing you have to know about this move. We’re moving because the gendarmes are onto our scam. Therefore, we are no longer the Thenardiers,” he explained.  
I was confused. How could we not be the Thenardiers? The only way you could change your name was by marriage, and my parents were already married to each other. “What do you mean, Papa?” I asked.   
“I mean that we’re changing our names. Not legally, of course, but from this day forward, we will no longer introduce ourselves as the Thenardiers. When somebody asks what your name is, you are to say that your name is Èponine Jondrette or Azelma Jondrette. Understood?” Papa said.   
I nodded. I didn’t want to go to Paris under a new identity, but it was Paris all the same. I’d just have to get used to not referring to myself as a Thenardier when I was writing to Marius. That took a while to get used to, believe me.   
We then climbed into the carriage. Maman gave the driver a little bit of money and he set off.   
It was a pretty interesting ride. The landscape on the way from Montfermeil to Paris was absolutely beautiful. Everything was green, and little flowers were starting to blossom alongside the little forest road. It was surreal (that’s a Marius word, I learned it last year) and felt like the farthest thing from Montfermeil.  
Eventually, a few hours later, we pulled into the Gorbeau House. Our new home. I wrote to Marius immediately telling him that we were in Paris now.   
I couldn’t wait to start my new life in Paris and finally see my best friend again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YIKES. that chapter sucked. Sorry about that. I was really uninspired but knew that I needed to write. Plus this was a super awkward chapter to write. It was just...odd. And I started school again yesterday, so I spent a good long time hating myself a lot. But that's not important.


	16. Chapter Sixteen: Marius

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marius finds out that Eponine is moving to Paris.

I looked out at the Parisian landscape, smiling. My hometown was gorgeous, though there were a few things lacking from it.   
However, my revelry was soon interrupted by a gentle knocking on my door. “Monsieur Marius?” Nicolette asked, pushing the door open. “I don’t mean to disturb you, but you have a letter from Mademoiselle Èponine.”   
I jumped down from my bed, grinning. “Merci beaucoup, Nicolette!” I said, running up to her and getting the letter.   
“You’re very welcome, Marius,” she said, smiling. I sat back down at my desk, unable to wipe the smile from my lips. “Well?” She paused for a minute. “Aren’t you going to read it?”  
“Well, of course!” I said, tearing open the envelope. There was no fancy seal on it, seeing as the Thenardiers were a rather poor family, but that didn’t matter. I do wonder if Èponine still has the seals I sent her. She really does love those things.  
‘“Dear Marius,’” I began. ‘“You’ll be happy to hear that I’m no longer living in the nasty inn in Montfermeil. Our scams got discovered (I did tell you about the scams, right?) and we have to move. And you’ll be even happier to hear where I’m moving.’”   
I paused for a minute. Where could she be moving? It probably wasn’t anywhere too nice. According to ‘Ponine, the Thenardiers never lived anywhere nice and never would. She said that she’d never known what it was like to have a warm bath every night, something I was known for taking for granted.   
‘“Paris! That’s right, I’m moving to Paris, the city of my dreams. We’re going to be living in the Gorbeau House on the Rue de le Voleur. From what I’ve heard, it’s not too nice, but that doesn’t mean anything. We’re going to be in the same city, Marius! And I’m moving to the world’s greatest city!’”   
I looked over at Nicolette, delighted. “She’s moving to Paris! I can finally see her again! Can you believe it, Nicolette? My best friend, finally somewhere where I can see her on a regular basis!”  
She smiled at me. “That’s amazing, Marius. It really is. I’ve never known what it’s like to have a best friend. I was always a pretty lonely girl when I was your age, and my only companions were my sisters Avisa, Margeria, and Roysia. You’re lucky to have Èponine. She seems to be such a good girl, even though her parents may not be.”   
I nodded. “Èponine is one of the best friends I could ever ask for. I just wish I had a way to keep in touch with Cosette. According to ‘Ponine, a man named Monsieur Valjean came and took her away and now Cosette lives with her. Something about a request from Cosette’s maman.”   
Although, deep inside, I pitied Èponine. I’d seen the Gorbeau House. There was a reason it was on Thief’s Road. Nobody who was a good person ever lived in that house, and there were frequent stories of robbery of those who were good people coming out of that nasty old house. It was a good place from Monsieur and Madame Thenardier, and perhaps Azelma too, but never for Èponine. She never deserved to live in a disgusting place such as that. She deserved a beautiful house on a hill, such as the one I lived in. And my grandfather, curse that man, deserved to live in the Gorbeau House. Èponine should take his place in my house. She would be more fun to live with and actually care about what happened to me.   
Wow, Marius. Get it together. What kind of child wishes the Gorbeau House on their relatives?  
Then again, what kind of world are we living in where my best friend is forced to live in that terrible place?   
I looked over at Nicolette. “Do you think Grand-père will let me go see her?” I asked. “He has to, doesn’t he?”  
Nicolette shrugged. “I’m not sure, darling. I hope that he will, but you know your grandfather. He never lets anyone do anything. Including me.”  
I sighed. “That’s true. I can’t remember the last time you got a vacation day. I think it was when I met dear ‘Ponine,” I said. Nicolette nodded. “Goodness! That was four years ago!”   
“There’s no rest for the weary, Marius,” she said. “Now, why don’t you go ask that grandfather of yours if you can go see Èponine when she moves in? Maybe, if you ask early enough, he’ll agree, then forget that he agreed, so you can use it against him and get to go see her.”  
“Are you sure you should be telling me this information?” I asked, trying to hold back my laughter.  
She shook her head. “Probably not. But, at any rate, it’s fairly useful, is it not?” Nicolette asked.  
“Well, that it is,” I admitted. “I guess I’ll go ask him.”  
“Good.”  
I started walking down the stairs, kind of afraid of what was going to happen. My grandfather would not be pleased that I wanted to go see Èponine, let me tell you. He was never happy when I wanted to do something of my own volition.  
That’s a big word. Èponine would like to learn it. She loves learning new words from the letters I send her. It makes her so happy.  
I then walked over to Grand-père’s study, where he was just sitting with a pile of paper, staring at it angrily. It would’ve been a funny visual, an angry elderly man glaring down a stack of paperwork, had I not feared my grandfather so much.   
I knocked on the door before entering. “Grand-père? I know you always say not to interrupt you while you’re working, but I have a quick question.” He gestured for me to go ahead with my question. “Well, my best friend Èponine is moving to Paris tomorrow. Can we go and see her and welcome her? I haven’t seen her in four years.”  
Grand-père shook his head. “No, Marius. She’s the reason for a lot of trouble. Now, go amuse yourself doing something other than pestering me.”   
I sighed. Of course my grandfather wouldn’t care for my happiness. He doesn’t care for anybody’s happiness except himself.  
But I would see my best friend somehow. I had to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO DANG LONG. I'm on the mend from a nasty bout of Type A flu and didn't get to write for two days. Otherwise, this would've been up a lot faster and it would be significantly better. Sorry!! I promise I'll get on a schedule at some time in the near future.


	17. Chapter Seventeen: Eponine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eponine is not pleased with unpacking in Paris.

I groaned. We’d been unpacking for about three hours, and we still weren’t done. For being a poor family from Montfermeil, we had more stuff than I thought we did.   
Let me rephrase: my parents still weren’t done. Azelma and I had gotten the things for our room unpacked an hour and a half ago. However, we were still stuck helping our parents unpack, which was miserable. We’d stolen half of this stuff anyway. We didn’t deserve to keep it.   
Eventually, after about another hour, I was fed up with all this. “C’mon, Azelma,” I said. “Let’s sneak out and go play with Marius. He’s so much more fun and we’ve already unpacked everything that’s ours. We’ve done more than our share.”  
Azelma looked up at me. “Can we actually do that? I don’t want to do this anymore,” she complained. I nodded. Her face brightened. “Yay! Can you go get his address?”   
I laughed. “Azelma, I don’t need his address. I’ve got it memorized,” I bragged. “09 Rue de Roi, Paris, France.”   
Azelma shrugged. “Okay, then. Let’s just go before Maman and Papa realize that we’re leaving.”  
“Bye, Maman! Bye, Papa!” I shouted.   
“Where are you going?” Papa demanded.   
“Just out stealing. We need some new knickknacks for the house, after all.”   
I could almost hear the smile in Papa’s voice as he said, “That’s my girl. Now, come back with something nice, okay?”  
“D’accord!” I cried, walking out of the little flat. I then turned to Azelma, beaming. “We did it! We actually got out of unpacking to go hang out with Marius!”  
Azelma’s face was brighter than I’d ever seen it. “It’s all because of your genius idea, Èponine. We could make a Thenardier out of you after all!” she said, laughing. I shuddered. I would never be a Thenardier like them. I would never steal unless it was to please Papa or Maman. I would never steal for a living. I was going to live an honest life. Azelma must’ve noticed my reaction, for she then said, “Calm down, ‘Ponine. It was just a joke. I know you don’t want to live like our parents.”  
I released a breath I didn’t know I was holding. “Good. I’m never going to become like our parents. I’m going to be honest. I have to be honest.”   
With that, we started walking down the street, heading towards the Rue de Roi. “Are you even going the right way?” Azelma asked. “You’ve got to remember that you don’t yet know your way around Paris.”  
“Oh, calm down, ‘Zel. If all else fails, we can just ask one of the gamins here for help. They know their way around,” I said, scoffing. How could she not trust me? I was one of the most trustworthy people around! At least, I was in Montfermeil. My information was the most trustworthy in the whole city.   
Eventually, I concluded that maybe I didn’t know where I was going. But I wouldn’t be admitting that to my little sister. I had to be tactful as to how I was going to tell her that we were asking for directions.   
“I’m fairly certain that I know where I’m going, but I’m going to ask a gamin just to make sure that I’m not going to get us completely lost,” I said, hoping Azelma wouldn’t catch on to my ruse.  
“You’re lost, aren’t you?” Azelma asked, crossing her arms and leaning all her weight on her left leg.  
“Hopelessly,” I admitted. ‘Zelma burst out laughing, but calmed herself a few seconds later. “Are you done?”  
“Yeah, I guess. Let’s just ask this boy over here. He looks friendly,” Azelma said. “Excuse me!” she shouted, waving him down.   
“Hmm?” the boy asked, turning to face us. “Whatcha need?”   
I couldn’t believe my eyes. He had the exact same face as my little brother Gavroche, who I hadn’t seen in at least three years. “Excuse my asking, but what’s your name?” I asked, tilting my head.  
“Gavroche. And yours?” he asked.   
“Èponine.”  
His eyes went wide, and he stared at me. “’Ponine?” he asked. “Is that really you?” I nodded. He jumped at me and gave me a huge hug. “You’re alive!” he shouted. “You’re really alive! I thought that I’d never see you again when I ran away,” he said. “But you’re here! You’re really here!”   
“Yep! Now, I’d love to stay and talk, but I’ve got a really important conversation to go make, okay?” I said. “But you should drop by the house someday. We moved to Paris, so it won’t be that hard for ya, buddy.”   
He nodded. “I will, I promise. So, whatcha need? You said you’ve got an important conversation to go make, so what’re you doing standin’ around here talking to me for?”   
“I need to know the way to the Rue de Roi. I thought I knew my way over there, but apparently, I don’t. I’ve got an…important meeting over there,” I said.   
Gavroche giggled. “Ooh, has ‘Ponine got a boyfriend?” he asked.   
My face went scarlet again. “No!” I yelped, probably a bit too quickly to seem unsuspicious. “He’s just my best friend.”  
“That’s what they all say,” Gav said, winking. I rolled my eyes. He was just like he was when we were little. Always teasing me about who knows what. “Anyway, it’s straight ahead, to the left, straight ahead, to the right, then to the left again. I think. If it’s the house I’m thinking of, it’s straight ahead once you make that final left turn.”  
“Got it! Thanks, ‘Vroche. See you around!” I said. He grinned at me and ran back to where all his friends were standing. “Alright, ‘Zel. Let’s head over to the Rue de Roi.”   
We followed Gavroche’s instructions, and sure enough, there was Marius’s house. I could tell it was his. It was just like the house he always described in his letters. Large and white, perched on the top of a hill. Although, large didn’t really cut it. The Pontmercy house was bigger than any house I had ever seen, and it was definitely bigger than any I’d ever live in.   
“So, what do we do? Do we knock?” Azelma asked.  
“Nope,” I said, raising my hand and starting to wave. “He’s sitting at his desk on the second floor. Writing. We’ve got to get his attention and get him to come down.”   
“Oh,” Azelma said, raising her hand and waving as well. She then began to jump around, trying to get him to look up. “It’s not working!”  
“You’ve got to be patient,” I advised. “If you’re not patient, nothing will happen. You can’t give up.” Sure enough, right after I said that, a little freckled face popped up from the window. I started jumping up and down like Azelma was, giggling. I stopped waving and started beckoning him toward us, asking him to come down.   
His face disappeared from the window. He was going down the stairs.  
I was going to see my best friend for the first time in four years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YAY! TOGETHER AGAIN! AND YAY FOR ME NOT TAKING LIKE TWO WEEKS TO UPDATE THIS TIME! Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this goofy little chapter. I wrote it in literally like two hours as a break from planning a rewrite of an old novel. New chapter should be up sometime soon!


	18. Chapter Eighteen: Marius

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marius is extremely bored again and is praying for a distraction.

I slammed my pencil on my desk. That was it. I couldn’t handle any more of that stupid schoolwork. And it wasn’t anything that could be considered fun!   
Well, none of it was really fun, per se. But English and reading were more tolerable than math and science, at least. And history wasn’t too bad. However, I wasn’t doing English, reading, or history at that time. I was doing math. The worst subject of them all.   
At least I had a bit of a distraction. There was a half-drafted letter to Èponine laying on my desk beside me, and I would stop every once in a while to scribble a few lines down. She’d been waiting for a new letter from me for a while, and I had finally gotten around to writing one.   
Why had it taken so long? School, of course. Being in CE II (or, as most English speakers would call it, third grade) meant that you got more homework than ever before. It was awful, and it meant that I didn’t get to keep in contact with my best friend as much.   
I looked down at my sheet of math calculations and shook my head. There was no way I was doing that anymore. When was it even due? Walking over to the calendar hanging on my wall, I saw two things. One, that this math assignment wasn’t due for another three days, giving me plenty of time to complete it. And two, that today was the day that the Thenardiers were moving in! How could I have forgotten?   
I walked downstairs to where my grandfather was sitting, simply relaxing. “Grand-père?” I asked, speaking tentatively so as not to irritate him. He looked up from stirring his tea, spoon still in hand.  
“Yes, Marius?” he replied. I stood, frozen. Seeing his blue eyes piercing me suddenly terrified me. He pointed at me with the spoon. “Go on then, Marius. I don’t have all day.”  
“Well, you know how I told you that Èponine and Azelma were moving in soon?” He nodded. “Well, I looked at my calendar, and today’s the day that they’re moving in. They’re in the Gorbeau House down the road. Can we go see them and help them unpack?” I asked, wincing as I did so. I knew that Grand-père wasn’t going to let me go see them. Especially not since I added that I wanted to help them unpack. He hated doing work for other people when it didn’t benefit him.   
Grand-père glared at me. Uh oh. Not only was I not going to be seeing my best friend for a while, I wouldn’t even be leaving the house for a while. He was not pleased with me. His expression then changed to one of disgust. “You really want me to take you to that…cesspool?” he asked, spitting the last word as if it was poison on his lips.  
I thought for a minute, then nodded slowly. “Yes, sir,” I said, though I knew that it was the wrong answer. He would appreciate that I told the truth, though. The only thing Grand-père hated more than wrong answers was lying.   
His face hardened. “Well, I will not be taking you over there. It’s not a place for a boy like you anyway, Marius,” he said. “If you want to see your little friend again, you’ll have to get her to come here. Now, go finish your homework.”   
I sighed. “Yes, Grand-père.” You belong in the Gorbeau House for not wanting me to be happy, I added silently as I walked back upstairs. I heard the gentle cling! of the silver spoon against his teacup as he returned to stirring his stupid tea. I hated that tea. I hated that spoon. I hated that man. None of them wanted me to be happy.  
In that moment, I wished that Nicolette would come and comfort me. But she was out grocery shopping, and could not come to comfort me.   
I sat back down at my desk, praying for something to come and distract me. If something distracted me of its own accord, Grand-père would let me get away with not completing my homework. After all, it wasn’t even due for another three days! However, there was nothing in my room that I could do besides reread the same old books for what felt like the thousandth time.   
Some books are comforting to return to time and time again. None of the ones that I had with me were anything like that. And I’d read them all too many times for them to be enjoyable anymore.   
I continued doing my homework for a few more minutes before a duo of little shapes caught my eye. They were both feminine shapes, and one of them was slightly smaller than the other one. Both of them were running through the streets, laughing and clearly searching for something. I watched them for a few minutes, amused at the fact that they seemed to be lost, before looking down at my homework for a second. The math problem on the page looked a lot less interesting than watching the confused little girls running through the streets, so I turned my attention back to the window. To my surprise, however, they had disappeared just as quickly as they’d come!   
“Oh, well. At least that was something somewhat entertaining,” I said to myself as I picked my pencil back up and wrote down a few numbers on the page. But they just couldn’t hold my attention. My mind was getting away from me again, wondering if those two girls were Èponine and Azelma coming to look for me.   
My question was answered when I looked up from my schoolwork and saw the two little girls from before standing beneath my window. Èponine was waving, and Azelma, bless that dear girl, was bouncing up and down, trying to get my attention.   
The instant I looked down at them, Èponine had started jumping as well. I grinned down at them. She then stopped waving and started beckoning me toward her, clearly wanting me to go downstairs and see them. I stood up and pushed my chair back from my desk.   
I then went sprinting downstairs, not even caring if Grand-père knew where I was going. Not that he cared. He would just sit at home drinking his tea.   
I walked outside and was met with the sight of my two best friends standing there, looking out at me.  
They were finally in Paris. And they had come to see me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'ALL I'M SO SORRY IT'S TAKING SO LONG TO UPDATE THIS! I've been super swamped with schoolwork and honestly this is the only free time I've gotten so far this week. Hopefully it calms down really soon. I really need to get on a schedule lol. Well, if you're enjoying this, please recommend it to your friends, comment, and leave kudos!


	19. Chapter Nineteen: Eponine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eponine and Marius finally get to see each other again.

I’m not ashamed to admit it: the minute I saw Marius, I ran straight at him and tackled him. And maybe I shed a couple of tears. Not more than three, though. I was a strong little Thenardier.  
What? Thenardiers are allowed to cry. Maman and Papa just don’t because they have no emotions. And honestly, neither does that dear little sister of mine. So, there. Thenardiers can cry.  
Azelma tackled him too, but she wasn’t hugging him nearly as tightly as I was. He was my best friend, after all. Not hers.   
“Hiya, Marius!” I said, smiling at him.   
“Still got that dimple on your cheek, I see,” he said, sticking his finger in it. I rolled my eyes.  
“Dimples don’t go away, idiot. Not usually, at least,” I said. Marius groaned. “What? You’re completely wrong about this situation. And I had to prove that you were completely wrong.”  
He huffed. “Well, you don’t have to.”   
“So what if I do?”   
“Then you’re rude.”  
Azelma stepped forward. “Can you guys just stop teasing each other for five seconds so we can actually go do something?” she snapped. “I actually want to hang out with you guys for once. I’m finally old enough to, and you’re not paying any attention to me!”  
Marius and I shared that look that only best friends know. “Oh, fine. So, Marius, do you want to play with us?” I asked, grinning.   
He paused for a minute. “Hmm, I’m not sure,” he said. Just then, his face contorted into a massive smile. “Of course I want to play, you idiot! You’re my best friend! Why would I not want to hang out with you?”   
I hugged him again. “Okay! Where should we go first?” I asked. He shrugged. “You’re the Parisian native! Shouldn’t you know where the best hangout spots are?”   
“I never leave the house.”  
“What a useless Parisian,” Azelma said. I popped the back of her head. “Ow! What was that for?”   
“That was for calling our best and only friend a ‘useless Parisian,’” I said. She groaned and muttered something under her breath about her being right about Marius being a useless Parisian. I popped the back of her head for the second time.  
Some people just never learn from their stupid mistakes. And my (sometimes) annoying baby sister was one of them.  
“Let’s just wander around until we find somewhere to go. There’s got to be something here to do. After all, it’s Paris!” I shouted, twirling around in the streets. A few little gamins looked at me as if I was crazy, but I didn’t care. I was finally out in the city that I’d dreamed of since I was a little girl.   
We kept walking for quite a while before encountering this whole little pack of gamins, including a little girl who couldn’t have been older than five. She was looking around, a faraway look in her eyes and the tiniest inkling of a frown on her face. I looked back at Azelma and Marius, then went walking toward her.   
“What’s the matter, miss?” I asked, crouching down and extending my hand toward her. She looked up at me, not taking my hand. I put it down and stood back up, realizing that I looked a little bit like, well, an idiot. “Do you have a name?”  
“Milesent,” she said, her voice hardly more than a whisper that grated against my ears. Had this little girl been drinking, or had she just been yelling too much?   
I knew too well the effects of drinking on the voice. Before Monsieur Valjean took Cosette away, both of my parents had warm comforting voices. But once he took her away, they turned to alcohol, and their voices became huskier and they yelled more often. Specifically Papa. He yelled so much more and had a much deeper voice than he did before Cosette had to go away.   
He did other things more than he used to before as well, but those didn’t really matter.   
“Well, hello, Milesent. Do you want to come play with us?” I asked. She looked up at me and shook her head vehemently. “Why not?” I pressed further, wondering why she didn’t want to come play with my best friend, sister, and me. There had to be a legitimate reason, didn’t there?   
Milesent’s sad expression changed to that of anger in a span of about three seconds. She stood up and glared at me. “Why won’t you respect that I don’t want to play with you and your stupid friends?” she asked, snarling like a wounded cat. “I don’t need friends. I’ve got myself. And myself is the only person I can rely on.” With that, she whirled around and stalked off, occasionally turning around to glare at me.   
“Well, that happened,” I said, shrugging and turning back around. “Oh well. If she doesn’t want my help, she doesn’t want my help.”  
“Hey, ‘Ponine!” a little voice called. I looked around, as did Marius and Azelma, trying to find the source of the voice. “Up here!” it called again. We looked up to see a little boy leaning on the head of a massive elephant statue, looking down at us.   
“Oh, hello Gavroche!” I said, waving at him. He grinned down at me, and I noticed that he had dimples as well. Marius would probably tease him about them, too.   
“Did I see ya tryin’ to talk to Millie?” Gavroche asked, tilting his head and sending his hat off his head. It landed on one of the elephant’s ears, and he muttered a curse as he jumped out of the elephant’s head and went walking toward the ear.   
“Gav, be careful up there!” Azelma shouted. “Wouldn’t want you dying, would we?”  
“Eh, might be better than life,” he said, snatching his hat and putting it back on his head. “And ya never answered my question. Did I see ya trying to talk to Millie?”   
I nodded, and he started cackling. “Ha! You really tried to talk to Milesent? Geez, you got lucky that she didn’t stab you on the spot. She’s known to take a man down before when he tried to take her to the orphanage. Anyway, it’s been nice seeing ya again, ‘Ponine. Have fun with your boyfriend.” With that, he walked back over to the hole in the elephant’s head and jumped back down.  
“He’s not my boyfriend!” I shouted back at him. I then turned to Marius, who looked confused by the whole situation. “My brother,” I explained.   
“Ah. I hope he does know that I’m not your boyfriend,” Marius said, sounding…more worried than he should’ve. Was I really that repulsive? Goodness.  
“He does. He just likes teasing people. Especially me. I haven’t seen him in like…two years. I’m just excited to see him again. Anyway, where do you want to go? We don’t have to go to the Arc de Triomphe today. After all, I do live here now,” I said, grinning.  
“We could just play here,” Marius said. “It’s nice and open, and we could do whatever we wanted. Plus, if he wanted to, that brother of yours could come join us. What was his name again?”  
“Gavroche.”   
“Yes, Gavroche. He could come and join us if he wanted to.”   
I smiled. “I’d really like that, but I doubt that he will. He’s got other friends. Plus, if he wants to join us, he’ll come of his own volition.”  
Marius’s face lit up. “Hey, I taught you that word! And you know it! You used it properly!” he shouted, hugging me.   
Have I mentioned that he gives the best hugs? Because he does, okay. They’re such good hugs.   
“Can we please play now?” Azelma asked. We both sighed.   
“Fine,” we said in perfect unison.   
“Can we play tag?” ‘Zel asked, smiling. I looked over at Marius, then nodded.   
“But you have to be it,” I said. Azelma wrinkled her nose in the same way I’d done so many times. “What? You suggested the game. You have to be it.”  
She grumbled. “Fine,” she spat. With that, we went running off around the little area we’d chosen as our play space.   
We continued playing together until the sun started to set behind the horizon, and we would’ve stayed longer, had Marius not called something to my attention.  
“Hey, Èponine? Who’s that coming from over near where you live? He looks…kind of angry,” he said.   
I turned around to see a menacing shape approaching on the horizon, and then looked forward to see a similar one coming from toward Marius’s house.  
Our families were there. And they wouldn’t be happy with us.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YES. FINALLY. MY LITTLE CHILDREN.   
> On a different note, the ending of the childhood era and the ending of book one (well, part one, but I'm referring to it as a book) is coming up really soon! I'm super excited to get into the "canon" era of this whole deal.  
> Also, I'm so sorry it took so long to upload this. I've been very busy with just...life in general. I promise I'll get back on schedule.   
> As if I ever even had a schedule.


	20. Chapter Twenty: Marius

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marius is so excited to see his best friend again, and he can't wait to spend the day with her and Azelma.

The minute I came out of my house, I was immediately charged by Èponine, who had a strangely red face. Had ‘Ponine, the toughest girl in France, been crying over seeing me again? Eh, I wouldn’t be surprised if she had. That girl always had a soft side that she never let show through. Don’t tell her that I know about it. She’ll be angry that her “strong Thenardier” guise had been ruined. Azelma tackled me too, but it was a less…intense tackled than Èponine’s. Her grip was much lighter than her sister’s, probably because we’d never been as close as Èponine and I had been. Probably the age dichotomy. “Hiya, Marius!” Èponine said, her face turning upward into a smile. The little dimple that was always there appeared on her cheek. “Still got that dimple, I see,” I said as I stuck my finger in it. She rolled her eyes. “Dimples don’t go away, idiot. Not usually, at least.” I groaned. Correcting me again? “What? You’re completely wrong about this situation. And I had to prove that you were completely wrong.” I huffed. “Well, you don’t have to.” She crossed her arms. “So what if I do?” “Then you’re rude.” Azelma stepped between us, glaring at us both. “Can you guys just stop teasing each other for five minutes so we can actually go do something? I actually want to hang out with you for one. I’m finally old enough to do so, and you’re not paying any attention to me.” Èponine and I shared that look that only best friends know. “Oh, fine,” Èponine asked, a grin spreading across her face. “So, Marius, do you want to play with us?” I paused for a minute. “Hmm, I’m not sure,” I said, trying to sound impassive. However, I couldn’t keep this cover up for long and I started grinning like an idiot. “Of course I want to play, you idiot! Why would I not want to hang out with you?” She hugged me again. “Okay! Where should we go first?” I shrugged. “You’re the Parisian native! Shouldn’t you know where the best hangout spots are?” “I never leave the house.” “What a useless Parisian,” Azelma said. Èponine smacked the back of her head. “Ow!” she shouted. “What was that for?” “That was for calling our best and only friend a ‘useless Parisian,’” she said. Azelma groaned and muttered something under her breath about me being the most useless Parisian out there. Èponine smacked her again. “Let’s just wander around until we find somewhere to go. There’s got to be something to do here. After all, it’s Paris!” Èponine cried, twirling around. A few gamins looked at her like she was absolutely insane, but ‘Ponine, true to the way she always acted, didn’t care at all. And why should she? She was finally home. We kept walking for a while before we ran into this pack of street urchins, including a little girl who had to be around five years old, if that. She was gazing around the streets, a distant look in her eyes and a small frown etched on her face. Èponine looked at me and Azelma, then walked toward her. Uh oh. This didn’t seem like a good idea. “What’s the matter, miss?” Èponine asked, crouching down and extending her hand toward the little girl. She stared up at ‘Ponine as if she was crazy. Èponine then put her hand down and stood back up, dusting off her skirt. “Do you have a name?” “Milesent,” the little girl said, her voice quiet and raspy. This girl had definitely gotten into some alcohol. I knew the sting of an alcoholic voice too well. Grand-père sometimes drank too much. It couldn’t have been as bad as Èponine’s papa’s drinking problem, though. She says that he sometimes threatens to hurt her or maybe even does hurt her when he’s been drinking too much. She also says that this only started happening when Cosette was taken away. Èponine claims that Cosette’s new Papa was a good man, with a kind face. She said that he would give her a new, better life. But why couldn’t he have taken Èponine and given her a new, better life too? I guess we’ll never know. And I guess that Cosette’s papa is still a good man, even if he didn’t take my bestest friend away with him. “Well, hello, Milesent. Do you want to come play with us?” Èponine asked. The little girl shook her head wildly. “Why not?” Èponine asked again. Oh, boy. This was not going to end well. Sure enough, Milesent’s face went from sadness to anger in an instant. She stood up and glared at Èponine, a glare to rival Grand-père’s on her face. “Why won’t you respect that I don’t want to play with you and your stupid friends?” Milesent snarled. “I don’t need friends. I’ve got myself. And myself is the only person I can rely on.” Milesent then stalked off, turning around and glaring at the three of us every few steps. Èponine shrugged and turned back to us. “Well, that happened,” she said. “Oh well. If she doesn’t want my help, she doesn’t want my help.” “Hey, ‘Ponine!” a little voice called. We all looked around, trying to figure out where that voice was coming from. “Up here!” The three of us looked up to see a little boy leaning on the head of Napoleon’s stupid elephant statue. “Oh, hello Gavroche!” Èponine said, waving at the boy. He smiled at Ep, and I realized that he had dimples too. Splendid! Somebody else to tease! “Did I see ya trying to talk to Millie?” the boy, Gavroche, asked, tilting his head just enough so that his hat flew off of his head. It landed on the elephant’s ear, and he muttered a word that a boy of his age shouldn’t know as he went to retrieve it. “Gav, be careful up there!” Azelma shouted. “Wouldn’t want you dying, would we?” “Eh, might be better than life,” he said, putting his hat back on slightly crooked. “And ya never answered my question. Did I see ya trying to talk to Millie?” Èponine nodded and he started laughing. “Ha! You really tried to talk to Milesent? Geez, you got lucky that she didn’t stab you on the spot. She’s been known to take a man down before when he tried to take her to the orphanage. Anyway, it’s been nice seeing you again, ‘Ponine. Have fun with your boyfriend.” With that, he jumped back down the elephant’s head. “He’s not my boyfriend!” Èponine shouted as she turned back to me. I must’ve looked confused, because she then said, “My brother.” “Ah. I hope he does know that I’m not your boyfriend,” I said, sounding a little meaner than intended. “He does. He just likes teasing people. Especially me. I haven’t seen him in like…two years. I’m just excited to see him again. Anyway, where do you want to go? We don’t have to go to the Arc de Triomphe today. After all, I do live here now,” Èponine said, grinning. “We could just play here,” I suggested. “It’s nice and open, and we could do whatever we wanted. Plus, if we wanted to, that brother of yours could come join us.” I paused. “What was his name again?” “Gavroche.” “Yes, Gavroche. He could come and join us if he wanted to.” Èponine smiled, and I knew I’d done the right thing. “I’d really like that, but I doubt that he will. He’s got other friends. Plus, if he wants to join us, he’ll come of his own volition.” My eyes went wide, and my face lit up. “Hey, I taught you that word! And you know it! You used it properly!” I shouted, hugging her. “Can we please play now?” Azelma asked. We both sighed in unison. “Fine,” we said, still in perfect unison. “Can we play tag?” Azelma asked, smiling. Èponine looked at me, then nodded. “But you have to be it,” Èponine said. Azelma wrinkled her nose, looking just like ‘Ponine in that moment. “What? You suggested the game. You have to be it.” She grumbled. “Fine.” With that, we went running across the little play space. We continued playing together until the sun began going behind the horizon, and we would’ve stayed longer, had I not seen something…unpleasant. “Hey, Èponine? Who’s that coming from over near where you live? He looks…kind of angry,” I said, a little too much concern in my voice. Èponine turned around and she saw the shape too, then we both turned around to see somebody coming from over near my house. Great. Grand-père was there. And so was Èponine’s papa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOOK! ANOTHER UPDATE IN UNDER A WEEK! AREN'T Y'ALL PROUD OF ME?   
> Honestly, I really like how this chapter turned out. Marius is such a sweetie. I can't write him as well as I can write Eponine, but that's because I basically am Eponine. So, I hope y'all enjoyed this chapter!


	21. Chapter Twenty-One: Eponine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eponine and Marius are discovered by their parents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has a trigger warning for abuse, so please read with discretion.

I grimaced. Papa wasn’t happy with me. I knew he wouldn’t be, but in an ideal world, I didn’t expect that he’d even realize that I was gone.   
Please, God, if you can hear me, please don’t let Papa harm me, Azelma, or Marius. I don’t want anyone to get hurt. And don’t let Marius’s grand-père hurt any of us either. None of us need to die today. We’re all too young. But if one of us is going to die, make it me, please, I prayed.   
“Èponine Adelise Thenardier!” Papa shouted. I winced. Men raising their voices made me so uncomfortable. It reminded me of bad experiences with Papa. I looked up at him.  
“Yes, Papa?”  
He grabbed me by the collar and lifted me into the air. It took every inch of willpower I had not to scream. That would’ve just resulted in a worse beating than the one I was already going to get. He then looked over at Azelma, who was cowering in a corner next to Marius, and stormed toward her, lifting her up just as he did to me. Unlike me, she did scream.  
And as for Marius? His ear was in the clutches of his grandfather, and he was whimpering softly. I wanted to help him, but I couldn’t. Not until my stupid father put me down.   
Papa lifted me up even further until I was about six feet in the air, eye to eye with him. I shuddered. His eyes may’ve been brown, but they were more piercing than those of anybody with blue eyes. “Why did you come out here?” he snarled.  
“I-I wanted to see my best friend,” I said, my voice small and tremulous.  
“You came out here to see this…this rich brat?” Papa asked, spitting the last word and throwing Azelma and me to the ground. I skidded across the stony road, bloodying my knee in the process. Marius broke free of his grandfather’s grasp and came running toward me.   
Well, he didn’t quite break free. It was more of a “his grandfather got angry at him being called a rich brat and dropped him.”  
“Are you okay, ‘Ponine?” Marius asked. “God, if I had a bandage right now I’d give it to you. That knee looks bad.”  
I nodded, wiping a few small tears off my cheeks. “I’m okay.”   
“Did you call my grandson a rich brat?” Gillenormand asked, commanding our attention. He stepped forward, so he was toe to toe with my father, glaring him in the eyes even though he was a good inch shorter.   
Papa looked down at him. “Maybe I did. What does it matter to you what I call your grandson? According to my daughter, you don’t even care about him.”  
“Well, I don’t expect you, the father of two pathetic street urchins, to understand our society or what it means to care about somebody. According to my grandson, you beat your daughters when they don’t do something that you want them to. Perhaps, to you, we are no more than rich brats, but to us and the rest of society, you and your two daughters are worthless,” Gillenormand spat. Just then, he spat on my father’s shoes.   
I winced and closed my eyes. I couldn’t watch this anymore. I should’ve known that this friendship would never work out. Not with my papa and Marius’s grandfather taking care of us. How I wished Maman was there! She was always able to keep Papa in line.   
“Nobody wants you and your annoying grandson in society either. I bet everybody who lives on your street just can’t wait for you to die and for that boy to move out.” Papa then spat on Gillenormand’s shoes.   
“Oh no,” I murmured, shutting my eyes even tighter. Marius put one arm around me (platonically. I’ve got to specify that or somebody who stumbles across this may think that I was…in love with him or something) and covered Azelma’s eyes with the other.  
“You don’t need to see this. You’re too young, Azelma,” he said. She pushed his arm away from her face.   
“Don’t touch me,” she growled. “I don’t need you to shelter me. I’m a Thenardier. I don’t need to be coddled.”   
I shook my head. “Sorry about my little sister. But you should be used to her by this point. She’s just…odd.”  
“You got that right,” Marius laughed. I laughed too. Even in this dark of a situation, my best friend could always make me laugh.  
Just then, my father came storming over to me. “Come along, Èponine. We’re leaving,” he said, glaring at Gillenormand. “And you won’t be coming back over here any time soon.”  
“You too, Marius. And don’t expect to see that stupid little friend of yours until further notice. Or perhaps never. It depends on how well you behave.”  
Papa then grabbed me and Azelma by our collars again and carried us back toward the Gorbeau House, where Maman was standing outside, wringing her hands. I shook my head in disappointment at myself. Maman had never done anything to me, and I’d made her worry so deeply about Azelma and me. But Papa? I didn’t care how much he worried about me. It would never be enough to make me feel bad.  
He threw us down on the cobblestone outside our house and raised his hands. I knew how this was going to end. With me all different shades of purple or blue, bleeding, or unable to move the next day. Sometimes a combination of the three.   
However, no matter how much I braced myself for the blows, they never rained down. I removed my head from between my elbows and looked up to see my mother holding my father’s arms, preventing him from bringing them down upon us.   
“Adelise, what are you doing?” Papa asked through gritted teeth.   
“Protecting our girls. Please don’t hurt them. You know how much they wanted to see that little friend of theirs. And you know how much they hated unpacking. They’re nine and seven, Alain. They just wanted to have a little fun,” Maman said. “They haven’t gotten to do anything fun since that old man took Colette away.”  
Cosette, I corrected, though I didn’t speak. Speaking would mean Papa’s attention was back on mean. Speaking would mean he remembered I was there.  
Speaking would mean getting beaten.   
“But they snuck away from us, Adelise. I tried to tell you that the Pontmercy boy was going to be a bad influence on our Èponine. Boys like him and girls like her don’t associate. It’s a natural dichotomy.”   
“I was a rich girl when I met you,” Maman countered.  
“And I pulled you into the dirt with me.”  
“But at least we’re together.”  
Papa froze for a minute. “Well, I guess we are.”  
“Don’t hurt our daughters. I’ll put them to work. They won’t get to do anything fun for a good long while. You hear that, Èponine? You hear that, Azelma? You won’t get to enjoy yourselves until I decide that you’re done doing work.”  
I nodded. Work was fine. I could do work. As long as the work meant that Papa wasn’t going to hurt me or my sister. I should’ve been like Gavroche and run away all those years ago. I’d be in better shape than I was then.   
“Alright, go get started. Èponine, I want you to scrub the floors. Azelma, I want you to clean you and Èponine’s rooms,” Maman said. “Go get started.”  
Papa cleared his throat. “Actually, don’t get started yet, Èponine. I have something I need to do for you.”   
I winced as he added, “Go get your letters.”  
Oh no.  
I walked upstairs, shaking. He was going to destroy them somehow. Everything was going to be ruined. All proof that I was ever friends with Marius was about to get flushed down the drain.   
But I could do one thing. I could save one letter. I dug through the box, searching for one letter. The first letter. I had to find it. I had to save that one. That was the most important.   
My father was screaming, his words pounding against my head and making it ache down to its core. Go get your letters. Go get your letters. But I was a woman on a mission, and I was going to succeed.   
I threw my hand into the box one more time, ready to give up hope, when I pulled one out. It was dated four years ago. The first letter I’d ever received from Marius. There it was. I ran toward my nightstand and stuffed it in the bottom of one of the drawers. It would be safe there.  
I then walked back downstairs, holding the box of letters. I extended it to my father, biting back tears. He took it from me, and in one swift motion, emptied it into the fireplace. I couldn’t resist it anymore.   
I screamed. It was loud and terrible, but I couldn’t hold it any longer. My father had just ruined my life.  
That night, as I watched four years of friendship written on paper go up in flames, I felt true hopelessness for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALRIGHT KIDS I'VE GOT AN UPDATE SCHEDULE! I'm going to be uploading on Wednesdays and either Saturdays or Sundays. Probably Sundays.   
> In other news, I saw The Greatest Showman today and I'm not okay.


	22. Chapter Twenty-Two: Marius

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marius watches as his life deteriorates very rapidly.

I winced. Not Grand-père. Anyone but Grand-père. I would rather have anyone there but him. But he was there, and there was nothing I could do about it.   
I turned my eyes to the sky and began to pray. Please, God, don’t let anything happen to any of my friends or to me. But if you have to take one of us, make it me. The other two have a chance for a happy life. I’m just going to be cloistered forever.   
“Èponine Adelise Thenardier!” Èponine’s father shouted, causing her to wince. I couldn’t imagine the horror she felt when he raised his voice.   
“Yes, Papa?” she asked.  
Right as she said that, I was jerked away from them by my ear, thanks to my dear grandfather. I stifled a yelp but settled for a small whimper that escaped my mouth. Grand-père loved to snatch my ear and pull me away from things by it, and it always hurt so badly. Why he thought that was okay would always be a mystery to me.  
My attention soon snapped back to Èponine and her sister due to the sound of a loud scream. Grand-père and I looked over at the Thenardier family to see the two girls hanging in the air, their dress collars in the hands of their father. The scream had to have been Azelma, who had small tears rolling down her cheeks. I knew it was her. Èponine would never scream.   
Her father lifted her up higher and higher until she was eye-to-eye with him. She shuddered, and I could tell that she was terrified, something that I don’t say lightly. ‘Ponine was normally fearless, but her one fear was her father.   
“Why did you come out here?” Monsieur Thenardier hissed.   
Èponine’s voice started shaking. “I-I wanted to see my best friend.”   
“You came out ear to see this…this rich brat?” her father asked, spitting the phrase like poison off his lips. He threw his daughters to the ground, sending them sliding across the paving stones and bloodying Èponine’s knee.  
I was so concerned for my best friend’s safety that I hardly even noticed that her father had insulted me or that Grand-père had let go of my ear. I just knew that I needed to make sure that Èponine was okay, and that was the only thing on my mid.   
“Are you okay, ‘Ponine?” I asked, my eyes meeting hers. “God, if I had a bandage right now, I’d give it to you. That knee looks bad.”  
She nodded and brushed a few small tears from her cheeks. “I’m okay.”  
“Did you call my grandson a rich brat?” Grand-père asked, standing toe-to-toe with Èponine’s father and glaring him right in the eyes.   
Oh boy. This was not going to end well. If there was one thing Grand-père hated more than he hated me, it was having his honor insulted. And this was definitely an insult to his stupid honor.   
Èponine’s father met his gaze. “Maybe I did. What does it matter to you what I call your grandson? According to my daughter, you don’t even care about him.”  
Grand-père puffed out his chest. “Well, I don’t expect you, the father of two pathetic street urchins, to understand our society or what it means to care about somebody. According to my grandson, you beat your daughters when they don’t do something that you want them to. Perhaps, to you, we are no more than rich brats, but to us and the rest of society, you and your two daughters are worthless,” Grand-père snarled. He then spat on Monsieur Thenardier’s shoes.  
Great. There was going to be some sort of fight here. I couldn’t help but think that this problem wouldn’t have happened had Maman still been alive. She could solve any problems without conflict.   
“Nobody wants you and your annoying grandson in society either. I bet everybody who lives on your street just can’t wait for you to die and for that boy to move out.” Monsieur Thenardier then retaliated by spitting on Grand-père’s shoes.   
“Oh no,” Èponine whispered, closing her eyes even tighter. I put one arm around her (as a friend, mind you), then put the other over Azelma’s eyes. She was too innocent to see such a brawl, despite being a street child.  
“You don’t need to see this. You’re too young, Azelma,” I said. She grabbed my arm and pushed it away from her face.   
So much for protecting innocence, I guess.   
“Don’t touch me,” she snapped. “I don’t need you to shelter me. I’m a Thenardier. I don’t need to be coddled.”  
Èponine shook her head and turned to me. “Sorry about my little sister. But you should be used to her by this point. She’s just…odd.”  
I laughed. “You got that right.” Èponine laughed too, which made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. I loved making her laugh. It made her dimples show up on her cheek.  
However, our joy was short-lived. Èponine’s father came storming over and seized her hand. “Come along, Èponine. We’re leaving,” he said, shooting a look at my grandfather. “And you won’t be coming back over hear anytime soon.”  
Grand-père then grabbed my hand, his nails digging into my palm. “You too, Marius. And don’t expect to see that stupid little friend of yours until further notice. Or perhaps never. It depends on how well you behave.”  
He then dragged me off by my hand. I dug my feet into the ground, trying to root myself to a specific spot, but it didn’t work. He was too strong for my little nine-year-old self. I couldn’t fight back against him.   
It could’ve been worse. I could’ve been in Èponine’s situation. My grandfather at least didn’t beat me. He may have been terrible verbally, but he never wounded me physically. That was some sort of disgrace to my mother’s memory.  
My mother. Juliana Pontmercy. What would she think about my behavior? She wouldn’t have condoned it. Then again, she would’ve allowed me to see my best friend. I missed her more every day. She was amazing. Why did she have to die? That’s one thing I’ll never understand.   
I braced myself as we walked into the house. This would be it. This would be the big blowup.   
“Marius Pontmercy! What on earth were you thinking? How could you have gone away without telling me? Just because you want to see those stupid street urchins doesn’t mean that you sneak out of the house!” he yelled.   
“Well, that was the only way I was going to get to see them!” I snapped.   
“Not necessarily. We could have worked something out! We could’ve found some way to get you over there.”  
“Oh, I seriously doubt it.”  
“Stop it, you two!” a female voice interrupted. We both turned our heads to see a blonde-haired, brown-eyed young woman standing there, her hands outstretched as if ready to prevent a physical altercation. Nicolette. “You’re both being ridiculous. Stop yelling. Monsieur Gillenormand, if you want to punish Marius, do so respectfully. Yelling will get neither of you anywhere. It will just produce more violence.”  
Thank you, I mouthed, nodding at her. She smiled.   
Grand-père took a deep breath. “Marius, you’re grounded until further notice. No leaving the house to do anything besides go to school unless Nicolette wants to take you out for some sort of outing. And no more writing to that little friend of yours. She seems to be putting all kinds of terrible ideas into your head. Had she not been writing you, you would never have pulled this stunt in the first place.”  
I wanted to protest in some way, but in a weird way, he was kind of right. I never would’ve snuck out were it not for Èponine. But I also wouldn’t have a best friend. It was an equal trade-off. And as for the not writing? Yeah, we all knew I wasn’t going to respect that. Nicolette would help me write to Èponine. She was always one to root for the power of friendship.  
“And one more thing,” Grand-père said. “Bring me your letters.”  
Oh no.   
I walked up to my room, trembling. He was going to find a way to get rid of my letters. All proof that I had any friends besides Nicolette would disappear. And there was nothing I could do to prevent it from happening.   
Except one thing. I could save one letter. I practically climbed into the box as I pushed my arm shoulder-deep into the pile of envelopes and paper. The first letter. I had to find it. I had to save that one. That was the most important.   
I could hear the tapping of my grandfather’s saliva-stained shoes on the hardwood floor downstairs, providing a sort of ticking time bomb feel to the whole experience. And his words rang in my ears, repeating that one phrase over and over. Go get your letters.   
Then I found it. The first letter I ever wrote Èponine. I placed it under my mattress and carried my box downstairs, handing it to Grand-père.  
He dumped it into the fire, and I watched as every sign that I’d ever had a friendship turned to ashes right before my eyes.  
That night, I learned that hope, which I had never given up before, was something I could lose. 

END OF BOOK ONE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOOK AT ME I STUCK TO THIS UPDATE SCHEDULE!!! And with that, we finish off Book One of Two Sides to Every Story! Not to worry, the second book is more of just a second part. See you on Saturday or Sunday, when we make our jump to the canon era!!


	23. B O O K  T W O

B O O K T W O  
“A real friend  
Is one who walks in  
When the rest of the world  
Walks out.”   
 


	24. Chapter Twenty-Three: Eponine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eponine goes to a rally.

I ran out of the house. Papa thought I was going to go rob someone. He always did. But guess what?   
I hadn’t robbed anyone in over three years. But he still hadn’t stopped falling for that lie.   
In all honesty, I was headed to some protest down the street. I didn’t even know what we were protesting for, but I knew that Marius was going to be there, and just like when I was younger, I took every opportunity to see him.  
We were still best friends, just like we were when we were younger. We got to see each other more regularly, since we were mature adults (actually, we were seventeen, but that’s close enough to a mature adult), and that made friendship way easier.   
But there was one tiny other thing. Remember how I always said I wasn’t ever going to fall in love with Marius. That he was my best friend and nothing else?  
Yeah, apparently I lied to myself. Nine-year-old me was extremely wrong. Somewhere around a year and a half ago, when I was fifteen, something inside me changed and suddenly I was in love with my best friend. So yeah. Take that, nine-year-old me. You played yourself.   
And there was one other thing about this protest: I had no idea where it was. I knew my way around Paris pretty well, but I’d told myself I was never going to go to Lamarque’s house, where the protest was being held.   
Suddenly, I heard what sounded like a dull roar coming from the streets nearby. I went running towards it and began to distinguish words. “Look down and see the beggars at your feet! Look down and show some mercy if you can. Look down and see the sweepings of the street! Look down! Look down upon your fellow man.”   
That must’ve been the crowd going to the protest. They were reaching up at the passing carriages, begging for just a shred of mercy from anybody. I was contemplating the words they had spoken, since they felt looked down upon just like me, when a familiar boy caught my eye and started yelling. My little brother Gavroche. He was about twelve or thirteen by that point, and definitely had become more street-smart since the last time I wrote.   
I followed the sound of his voice and drew closer to it. Suddenly, I lost sight of him for a moment before I spotted him jumping onto some bourgeoise’s carriage. Great. Yet another thing to make the Thenardier family look awful in the eyes of the public.   
“How do ya do, my name’s Gavroche. These are my people, here’s my patch. Not much to look at, nothing posh. Nothing that you’d call up to scratch.” He puffed out his chest and pointed at the bourgeois man, who looked a little bit scandalized by this whole situation. I stifled a laugh. That was my little brother alright. A proud boy who loved his life, even if he spent it on the street. “This is my school, my high society, here in the slums of Saint Michel.” He gestured out at the crowd around him but didn’t take his eyes of the man in the carriage. Gavroche almost sounded proud of his little street family.  
That was good. My brother had something he could be proud of. That was one thing I didn’t have.  
“We live on crumbs of humble piety. Tough on the teeth, but what the ‘ell?” He began gesturing around at all the people around him. “Think you’re poor? Think you’re free? Follow me. Follow me!” With that, he swung into the carriage and crawled across the people’s laps, leaping out the other window.   
Meanwhile, the crowd on the street was following after him, still chanting, “Look down, and show, some mercy if you can! Look down, look down, upon your fellow man.”  
I ran after my brother. He had to have been going to the protest. He was friends with Marius and all his friends, therefore he had to go to their little meeting outside Lamarque’s house. It was probably required.   
I finally caught up to him when he jumped onto the back of another carriage, taking a seat on the back of it. I exhaled in relief. At least he wasn’t climbing into it this time.   
Even though he didn’t live with us or really even acknowledge that we were related except for when he saw me on the streets, I still felt a sense of responsibility for my brother. He was family, after all, and family helped family. I knew that he would help me if I was ever struggling, and he knew that I’d help him.   
Just then, he grinned up at me, flashing the dimple that we shared (I have no idea where we inherited it, since neither of our parents had dimples), and started yelling again. “There was a time we killed the king. We tried to change the world too fast. Now we have got another king. He is no better than the last. This is the land that fought for liberty,” he yelled as he threw his fist in the air, “now when we fight we fight for bread. Here is the thing about equality: everyone’s equal when they’re dead. Take your place. Take your chance. Vive la France! Vive la France!” He stood up on the back of the carriage.  
Courfeyrac came running over and picked up my little brother, hoisting him onto his back, while I took that as my cue to push to the front of the crowd. I had to. I had to see Marius. He had to know that I supported his mission.  
The chant was still continuing. “Look down and show some mercy if you can. Look down, look down upon your fellow man.”  
I knit my eyebrows together, looking up at Marius and Enjolras. This was getting concerning. Were they going to try to overthrow the king? They couldn’t do that, could they? They’d all get killed in the process, and then we’d be no better than we were. And everyone would lose their friends. There was no way they were going to start some sort of rebellion.   
“When’s this gonna end?” Courfeyrac shouted up at Marius and Enjolras, who were standing on a podium, rallying everyone. They were the reasons for the chant, weren’t they? They’d probably started the whole thing.  
Classic Marius. Always trying to rally people to his cause. Including me. Every time I saw him, he was always begging me to come to his protests. Claiming that they’d help the poor or whatever.   
Nice to know that he thought I was poor.  
“When are we going to live?” a beggar asked.  
“Something’s gotta happen now,” Joly said.  
“Or something’s gotta give,” all the beggars replied. “It’ll come, it’ll come, it’ll come, it’ll come, it’ll come.”   
“Where are the leaders of the land?” Enjolras asked, commanding everybody’s attention and holding a packet of papers up in the air. Probably pamphlets for their little revolution or whatever they were doing. “Where is the king who runs this show?” He threw the papers behind them, sending them fluttering to the ground. I could almost hear Combeferre sigh from where I was, despite the fact that he was a few people in front of me. He always sighed when Enjolras did things like that.  
Luckily, Marius was still holding on to his pamphlets. Hopefully he wouldn’t throw one at me. He’d been known to do that before. “Only one man, General Lamarque, speaks for the people here below.”  
Enjolras looked to the crowd, suddenly a lot more somber. Great. Something was probably happening to Lamarque. That was the only thing that could change Enjolras’s expression from just being done with everyone. “Lamarque is ill and fading fast. Won’t last a week out, so they say.”   
And I was right. Lamarque wasn’t going to live another week. Splendid. That was going to put ideas of rebellion in those boys’ brains, and heaven knew we didn’t need another rebellion. Like I said earlier, too much death for anybody to be comfortable.   
“With all the anger in the land, how long before the judgment day?” Marius asked. I fixed my eyes on him, hoping he’d see me in the crowd. And he did. It was just for a split second, but our eyes locked, and he looked right at me. For that split second, his expression brightened. He was happy to see me, even if it was just because I came out to support his rebellion.  
“Before we cut the fat ones down to size?” Enjolras cried, throwing his hand emphatically and sparking a shout of “Death to the king!” from a man in the crowd.  
“Before the barricades arise?” the chorus screamed. Yep. That confirmed it. That group of idiots who hung out at the café day after day were going to try and singlehandedly reform the government. That must’ve been what they were planning every single day they were in there.  
Of course, that was just my thought. They never actually let me into the meetings, no matter how much Marius tried to convince Enjolras to let me come. He was just too stubborn. For all I knew up until that point, they could’ve been discussing the best types of absinthe (with Grantaire there, they probably did, at some point in time), but now I knew the true purpose of their society. Rebellion.   
Suddenly, government officials came riding up on black horses, and Marius and Enjolras got down from the podium. Everyone else in the crowd started running the opposite direction. Nobody wanted to get shot.   
Marius walked through the crowd, occasionally patting random people on the shoulder and saying, “Tell your friends. We come tomorrow. We meet here at General Lamarque’s house. Bring your friends.”   
“Vive General Lamarque!” everyone shouted.   
I pushed through the crowd, trying to find Marius. He had to know that I supported them, even if I really didn’t. He just had to think that I did.  
But what I saw was…not ideal.  
He had backed up just enough to run into a black carriage pulling none other than Monsieur Gillenormand, curse that man. He still didn’t like me, but Marius had kind of stopped caring what his grandfather thought about most things. But my guess was that he hadn’t told his grandfather about the Friends of the ABC and that was where this problem was coming from.   
“Marius!” Gillenormand shouted right into his grandson’s ear.   
Marius shuddered and turned around. “Grandfather!” he yelped.   
Gillenormand climbed out of the carriage and grabbed Marius’s sleeve. “Have you any idea of the shame you bring on our family? An utter disgrace,” he hissed, climbing back into his carriage.  
I couldn’t believe my ears. Gillenormand may have said many rude things to Marius over the years, but that was by far the worst. And saying it right to his face, too? Had we not been in a public place, I probably would have slapped him in defense of my best (and only, for that matter) friend. But slapping people was frowned upon in public places, and I didn’t quite want to make anybody there my enemy.   
My father had made enough enemies for me. I didn’t want any more.   
“Marius,” Enjolras warned, pushing past me to speak to Marius, then working his way back into the crowd. My mouth was still wide open in disbelief that anyone would talk to Marius that way in front of me. I had a reputation around Paris as somebody who would stick up for those that were insulted and downtrodden, so nobody ever wanted to say bad things about anybody in front of me.  
Marius, however, didn’t seem nearly as bothered by this incident as me. He just resumed screaming, “Vive General Lamarque! Vive General Lamarque!” and aiming his words directly at his grandfather.  
The guards drew closer and closer, and we knew that they weren’t afraid to shoot. The cries of “Vive la France! Vive la France!” didn’t die down, but the people at Lamarque’s house started moving farther back so they didn’t get shot by the guardsmen.   
Luckily, nobody actually got shot, and there weren’t even any warning shots fired.  
The crowd dissipated shortly after, and Marius walked up to me. “Èponine, you shouldn’t have come. It’s too dangerous for you out here. We’re putting our lives in danger just by protesting.”  
I shook my head. “You know I don’t value my life that highly,” I said. “Plus I want to support you. I want your cause to succeed. And honestly, you should be the one fearing for your life. You’re a sitting duck up there on that podium. And if you’re seriously about this rebellion thing, you’ll be putting your life in danger. They’re going to shoot at you for being a rebel.”   
“I don’t care if I live to see a free France. I’m not doing this for me. I’m doing it for people like you, who suffer every day from prejudice because you’re poorer than everybody and who lives from charity to charity. Speaking of charity, I’m guessing you told your dad you were out stealing?” Marius asked. I nodded. “Oh, ‘Ponine, you can’t do that and take nothing home. Come by my place later and I’ll give you some money. Since we’re neighbors now, it’s not like you’re going to have to claim that you’re going anywhere.”   
I laughed. I’d forgotten that Marius had moved into the Gorbeau House the month before. He had the room next to mine, which was in slightly better shape than ours. But that was fine. “You need the money more than I do, Marius. Maman and Papa are probably out scamming right now. The worst that can happen is that Papa slaps me across the face or something, which really doesn’t hurt that badly anymore. But I will take you up on that offer to go by your place. I need to get out of the house more.”  
“Alright, sounds like a deal. Well, I’ve got to go over to the café. I’ll see you in an hour or so?” he asked.  
“Got it. I’ll be there.”  
“You still don’t pass up an opportunity to hang out with me, do you?”  
I laughed, trying to hide the fact that I didn’t pass up those opportunities because I loved him. “Nope. Best friends don’t pass up those kinds of opportunities.”  
He rolled his yes. “Okay, I’ve actually got to go now. See you later…’Ponine.”  
“Alright…,” I paused for a second, trying to think of a nickname. What do you nickname a man called Marius, of all things? I hadn’t been able to come up with one in the twelve years I’d known him. “Mars,” I decided finally.  
He stopped in his tracks. “Mars, huh? Is that my new nickname?” I turned scarlet and nodded. I wasn’t expected a response from him. “I like it.” He then turned back around and walked off. “I’m actually leaving this time!” he shouted back at me.  
I laughed and started walking back home. It was going to be a good day. I had already gone to a rally and made plans to spend time with my best friend, so the rest of the day was going to be just as brilliant.   
At least, I hoped it would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YAY CANON ERA! I'm so happy that I'm finally at the point in the story where they're like, their actual ages. Except Marius, whose age I skewed just a teeny bit to make the rest of the story work a little better. Sorry...Mars.   
> I'm gonna be using that nickname more often.


	25. Chapter Twenty-Four: Marius

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marius hosts a rally.

“Au revoir, Grand-père!” I shouted as I walked out of the house. As usual, he didn’t ask where I was going. I was seventeen, and by that point, he didn’t care where I went during the day. He was just glad to be rid of me.   
Honestly, if somehow, I died during the day, he probably wouldn’t care. But that was fine. I didn’t care about that old man anyway.  
I walked down to General Lamarque’s house, where my friends Enjolras, Grantaire, Feuilly, Joly, Combeferre, Courfeyrac, Lesgle, Bahorel, and Jehan were staging a protest against King Louis-Philippe.   
As I walked, I wondered if my best friend, Mademoiselle Èponine Thenardier, was going to be at the protest. I’d told her about it a few days prior to the event itself, but with her complicated home situation, I wasn’t one hundred percent certain she’d be there.   
Of course, the two of us were still as close as ever. We got to see each other more regularly, since our parents cared less about our whereabouts now that we were older, and that made keeping in touch a lot easier.   
I walked up to Lamarque’s house, finding that the rest of my friends were already there. I groaned. Fabulous. I was late yet again. Enjolras would surely have my head this time.   
“Pontmercy!” he yelled, turning to face me. “What makes you think you can just stroll up at any hour of the day? You were supposed to be here ten minutes ago! What, is your time more precious than that of the revolution? General Lamarque’s life dwindles with every second we wait. We can’t stand to waste any more time.”  
“Sorry,” I muttered, climbing up onto the podium next to him.   
“Where were you, anyway?”  
“Running behind.”  
“He was daydreaming again, I bet!” Bahorel hollered.   
I was prepared to defend myself against their claims, but I was interrupted by the sound of hundreds of voices chanting in the streets nearby. They started off quiet, but eventually got loud enough that I could distinguish individual words. “Look down and see the beggars at your feet! Look down and show some mercy if you can. Look down and see the sweepings of the street. Look down! Look down upon your fellow man.”  
Enjolras flashed a rare smile as his eyes searched the crowd for the source of the voices. “They’re coming to our protest,” he said. “We’re getting people to listen to us.” Personally, I doubted that they were actually coming to see us, but whatever prevented Enjolras from yelling at everybody was always a good thing. Just then, I saw our little friend, Gavroche (yes, the same Gavroche that is related to Èponine), disappear into a carriage and I heard his voice rise louder than everyone else’s.  
“How do ya do, my name’s Gavroche. These are my people, here’s my patch. Not much to look at, nothing posh. Nothing that you’d call up to scratch. This is my school, my high society, here in the slums of Saint Michel. We live on crumbs of humble piety. Tough on the teeth, but what the ‘ell? Think you’re poor? Think you’re free? Follow me. Follow me!” I watched as he disappeared out the other side of the carriage, much to the disdain of the man riding in it.   
That was our Gavroche. Always joyful, despite his sad little life. That seemed to be a Thenardier family thing. Happiness in spite of the adversity they all seemed to face.   
I watched him all through the crowd as people started appearing at the protest. My friends started walking among them, handing out slips of paper detailing why we were gathered there. Even Enjolras got down and started talking to people.  
But me? I stayed on my podium, listening to the crowd chanting, “Look down and show some mercy if you can. Look down, look down, upon your fellow man.” It was almost entrancing, the way they all moved together.   
“Marius, why aren’t you down here handing out pamphlets?” Enjolras asked.  
“I think one of us should stay up here so the people know where to go. If they see me standing up here, they’ll assume that I’m one of the revolutionaries and come over here to see what’s happening,” I said, hoping he believed my excuse. I’d literally made it up on the spot.   
Enjolras groaned. “You’re impossible, Marius. Somebody give the man some pamphlets.”  
Courfeyrac handed me a packet of pamphlets as I said, “Could be worse. I could be completely drunk off my head twenty-four seven.” This last part was a jab at Grantaire. He was a great guy, but honestly, always drunk, which led to half of our meetings being spent listening to him raving in the back of the café about nothing in particular. It got old, but at least we all still tolerated him.  
Just then, I heard more yelling in the general direction of Gavroche and looked over to see him sitting on the tailgate of a carriage. Classic Gavroche. Always piggybacking on the money and effort of the bourgeois. “There was a time we killed the king. We tried to change the world too fast. Now we have got another king. He is no better than the last. This is the land that fought for liberty, now when we fight we fight for bread. Here is the thing about equality: everyone’s equal when they’re dead. Take your place. Take your chance. Vive la France. Vive la France!”  
By this time, he was in the square in front of Lamarque’s house. Courfeyrac fought through the crowd and lifted him onto his shoulders so he could see us more easily.   
A familiar face in the crowd caught my eye. A dark-haired girl, covered in dirt and dressed in rags. My best friend. Èponine Thenardier.   
The chant still thundered on. “Look down and show some mercy if you can. Look down, look down, upon your fellow man.”  
I saw Èponine look up at Enjolras and me through the corner of my eye. She was worried about us. Probably concerned we were going to overthrow the government or something.   
Perhaps she was right. Who knew what Enjolras had in store for us?  
“When’s this gonna end?” Courfeyrac asked us.   
“When are we gonna live?” a beggar yelled.   
“Something’s gotta happen now,” Joly said.   
“Or something’s gotta give!” everyone chanted. “It’ll come, it’ll come, it’ll come, it’ll come, it’ll come.”   
“Where are the leaders of the land?” Enjolras asked, thrusting the pamphlets he was holding into the air. “Where is the king who runs this show?” He threw the papers behind him, some sort of gesture of carelessness. I didn’t know if it was intentional. I never knew if his actions were deliberate or not.   
“Only one man, General Lamarque, speaks for the people here below,” I added.   
Enjolras looked over at me, then turned to the crowd, his expression darker than it had been. There was the kicker. He was going to mention Lamarque’s illness. He hadn’t shut up about that for a week. Now he was informing all of Paris. “Lamarque is ill and fading fast. Won’t last a week out, so they say.”  
Murmurs rippled through the crowd. I saw confusion in Èponine’s eyes. Right as I noticed that, and before I could look away, her eyes shot up, searching for me. Our eyes met. It was just for a split second, but our eyes locked, and she looked right at me. I felt a small smile cross my face, but just as quickly as it came, it was gone. I couldn’t let Enjolras see that I was having other emotions besides revolution-related ones.   
“Before we cut the fat ones down to size?” Enjolras cried as he threw his hand in the air, which cued a man in the crowd to shout, “Death to the king!”   
‘Before the barricades arise?” the people gathered around us asked.   
That was a good question. How much longer would it be before our plan went into action? If that was even our plan. Enjolras didn’t tell me anything. He didn’t think I was trustworthy with our rebellion ideas.   
In all honesty, I probably wasn’t, but I still wanted to know what we were planning. I had to know if I was putting my life in danger, so I could say my goodbyes to the people who cared about me before I died.   
Suddenly, out of what seemed to be nowhere, National Guardsmen came riding up on dark horses. Enjolras and I scrambled off the podium. My heart was thundering. The crowd started backing away, disappearing into an alleyway. We couldn’t get shot.   
I walked through the crowd, sometimes stopping to tell people, “Tell your friends. we come tomorrow. We meet here at General Lamarque’s house. Bring your friends.” I wasn’t sure that anybody would actually come, since the guardsmen had come that day, but it was always worth telling people.   
“Vive General Lamarque!” the crowed yelled.   
I watched as Èponine made her way through the crowd, shoving past person after person to get to where I was. However, I was so excited to talk to her again and thank her for coming to the protest that I didn’t pay attention to where I was and backed into a huge black carriage.   
And who was the passenger, you may ask?  
None other than my grandfather.   
I tried to escape, but before I could, he yelled, “Marius!” right into my ear.   
I shuddered and turned to face him. “Grandfather!” I cried, trying to act as if I was surprised to see him.   
He climbed out of the carriage and grabbed my sleeve. “Have you any idea of the shame you bring on our family? An utter disgrace,” he snarled, just loud enough so that I could hear every single syllable he said. He then climbed back into his carriage and sat there watching the protest fall to pieces.   
I looked back at Èponine, who looked shocked that Grand-père had called me a disgrace. She didn’t know how frequently it occurred. Pretty much every day, when I came home from whatever it was I had been doing that day, he called me an utter disgrace. I had grown immune to it by that time. Honestly, what did it matter what he thought of me? I had friends. I didn’t need him to care about me. I had a whole group of people who cared what happened to me.   
‘Ponine (yes, she’s still got the nickname) looked like she was about to slap my grandfather, but thankfully, she didn’t. Had she, I would’ve felt the consequences when I next visited him.   
“Marius,” Enjolras said, shoving Èponine out of the way so he could speak to me. Èponine’s mouth was still gaping. Why was she so in shock that my grandfather said things like that to me? She knew that he hated me.  
I guess she just didn’t know that he said things like that to me.   
I tried to show her that it hadn’t hurt me by returning to rallying protesters. “Vive General Lamarque! Vive General Lamarque!” However, I did aim these words specifically at my grandfather. I didn’t care what he thought. I was a revolutionary.   
The guards started growing closer, and the closer they got, the farther the cries of “Vive la France!” drew from General Lamarque’s house, and the farther away the cries got, the farther away I got. Like I said earlier, nobody wanted to get shot.   
Thankfully, there weren’t even any warning shots fired upon that day.   
The crowd dispersed in the following minutes, and I took that as an excuse to speak to Èponine. I walked up to her, my face growing sterner the closer I got to her. “Èponine, you shouldn’t have come. It’s too dangerous for you out here. We’re putting our lives in danger just by protesting.”  
She shook her head. “You know I don’t value my life that highly,” she replied. “Plus I want to support you. I want your cause to succeed. And honestly, you should be the one fearing for your life.” I groaned. I knew she’d say something like that. “You’re a sitting duck up there on that podium. And if you’re serious about this rebellion thing, you’ll be putting your life in danger. They’ll shoot at you for being a rebel.”   
“I don’t care if I live to see a free France. I’m not doing this for me. I’m doing it for people like you, who suffer every day from prejudice because you’re poorer than everybody and who lives from charity to charity. Speaking of charity, I’m guessing you told your dad you were out stealing?” She nodded. “Oh, ‘Ponine, you can’t do that and take nothing home. Come by my place later and I’ll give you some money. Since we’re neighbors now, it’s not like you’re going to have to claim that you’re going anywhere.”  
She laughed, and it was clear that she’d forgotten that I had moved into the Gorbeau house the month prior, in the room right next to hers. “You need the money more than I do, Marius. Maman and Papa are probably out scamming right now. The worst that can happen is that Papa slaps me across the face or something, which really doesn’t hurt that badly anymore. But I will take you up on that offer to go by your place. I need to get out of the house more.”  
“Alright, sounds like a deal. Well, I’ve got to go over to the café. I’ll see you in an hour or so?”  
“Got it. I’ll be there.”  
“You still don’t pass up an opportunity to hang out with me, do you?”  
She laughed, and it was clear that she was hiding something, but I wasn’t sure what. “Nope. Best friends don’t pass up those kinds of opportunities.”  
He rolled his eyes. “Okay, I’ve actually got to go now. See you later…’Ponine.”  
“Alright…,” she paused for a minute, clearly trying to think of a clever nickname for me. The joke was on her. Nicknames for Marius didn’t exist. “Mars,” she decided.   
I stopped in my tracks. She’d actually found one for me. “Mars, huh? Is that my new nickname?” She turned beet red and nodded. “I like it.” I then turned around and walked off. “I’m actually leaving this time!” I shouted over my shoulder.   
I heard Èponine laugh as I walked off to the café.  
It was going to be a good day. I’d gotten to participate in a rally and I was going to spend time with my best friend, so the rest of the day was going to be wonderful as well, right?   
As long as our meeting went well (which it did), it would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YAY I'M STICKING TO MY SCHEDULE. Hope you enjoyed!


	26. Chapter Twenty-Five: Eponine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Robbery, basically

Sure enough, about an hour later, I walked out of our apartment and headed next door. Marius’s door was open, which I knew wasn’t a smart plan. In what world would you want to leave a door open in a house full of thugs?  
As much as I loved him, I couldn’t deny that he wasn’t the brightest man I knew.   
I peeked in the doorway to see him crouched over a suitcase, packing something up. Was he…leaving? No. He couldn’t have been moving out, could he? Not when he’d just moved in.   
“Hey there Monsieur, what’s new with you?” I asked, smiling. “Plotting to overthrow the state?” Marius rolled his eyes. “You still pretending to be poor? C’mon, I know your grandpa’s rich.”   
He grabbed his suitcase and walked out of the room. “Won’t take a franc that I’ve not earned. All of those bridges have been burned.”  
I grinned. “I like the way you talk, Monsieur!”  
He turned back to me. “I like the way you always tease.”   
We walked into the little awning at the street level of the Gorbeau House and suddenly, I heard a sound that made me cringe. “Everyone here! You know your place! Brujon, Babet, Claquesous. You, Montparnasse! Watch for the law. With Èponine, take care. You turn on the tears, no mistakes, my dears!”  
“I’d better go see what he wants,” I whispered. “I’ll be back in a moment.”   
I walked over to where my father was, and Montparnasse grabbed my arm, whispering incomprehensible words in my ear. I glared at him. Who did he think he was? I broke away from his grasp and stood in the center of the road, looking over at Marius. He’d pulled out a book and was sitting on the ground with a book, smiling at some of the words printed on the page.  
He was extremely attractive in that moment, just saying.   
“These bloody students on our streets, here they come slumming once again!” Maman shouted, gesturing at all the boys sitting on the ground doing whatever it is they were doing. I wonder what she would have done if she knew that one of them was the little boy she was so happy I’d found when I was five. “Our Èponine would kiss their feet! She never had a scrap of brain.”  
I disregarded what she said and adjusted my hat, a little corduroy thing I’d had for a while. I wore it nearly everywhere to hide the fact that my hair was, well, a mess. I then tightened my belt, a sort of…preening, almost. Of course, there wasn’t much of me to preen. Not much that was worth paying attention to, at any rate.  
But why was I putting all this effort in? Well, I was going to go speak to Marius again. My parents wouldn’t get in the way of the afternoon I had planned. They were in no way going to do that sort of thing.   
I tapped Marius’s shoulder, and after I did so, I stepped backwards very quickly, brushing my hair out of my face. “Hey, Èponine, what’s up today? I haven’t seen you much about,” he said. I laughed. He always did this when my parents were in the area to disguise that we had been hanging out. I smiled at him.  
“Here, you can always catch me in!” I said, playing along to his little game. Like I said, we had to keep our friendship mostly secret. It was kind of frowned upon in most societies for a high-class boy to be friends with a lower-class girl, and my parents were right nearby. They couldn’t know about our conversations. They’d put a stop to them for sure.   
“Mind the police don’t catch you out!” Marius said, but this part lacked the joking tone of his first phrases. This time, he really was trying to warn me against being out here in plain daylight. I’d had a change of heart, but my parents hadn’t. If the police knew that I was their daughter, I’d be locked up for sure. They wouldn’t believe me when I said I didn’t steal anymore.  
Nobody ever believed me. They just judged me by the family I was born into and assumed that I was an immoral freak.   
I snatched his book from his hand and ran across the street, laughing. “Here, whatcha do with all these books?” I asked, flipping through the pages. “I could’ve been a student, too. Don’t judge a girl on how she looks. I know a lot of things, I do!” I then stuck my face right up next to his, as if challenging him to some sort of fight and closed the book. It made a nice sort of clapping sound.   
“Poor Èponine, the things you know, you didn’t learn in books like these!” he said as I extended the book to him. He reached out to grab it, but I whipped it away quickly and hid it behind my back, flinging it all over before he finally grabbed it.   
“I like the way you grow your hair,” I said, smiling.   
“I like the way you always tease,” he said again. I laughed. It was funny when he repeated things like that.   
He began to walk away, returning to his book and evidently forgetting about agreeing to hang out with me now that we were in public, and I muttered to myself, “Little he knows…little he sees.”   
Just then, Papa whistled for me, and I went running as Maman yelled, “Here’s the old boy. Stay on the job. And watch out for the law.”   
Marius walked over to me and took my wrist in his hand, which I quickly yanked away. Had I left it there, I would’ve turned completely scarlet and embarrassed myself. “Stay out of this,” I warned, pushing him away from where my family stood. He couldn’t get mixed up in my family schemes. It wouldn’t end well, and he’d probably get carted off to jail like the rest of us will someday.   
“But, Èponine!” he said.   
I left my hands on his arm and looked him directly in the eyes. “You’ll be in trouble here. It’s not your concern. You’ll be in the clear!” I laid my hand on his chest, trying to be gentle and firm all at the same time. He had to know that I didn’t want him to be in trouble. He had to understand that what my family was doing was not okay.  
I tried to run away again, but he grabbed my wrist yet again. “Who is that man?”  
“Leave me alone!” I snapped, yanking my hand away and full-out sprinting away. He wasn’t going to catch me now. I’d always been faster than him.   
“Why is he here?” he asked. I ignored him, and just kept running. “Hey, Èponine!”   
I heard a loud thudding sound and turned around to see a young woman dressed all in black and wearing a bonnet sitting on the ground next to a basket that she’d evidently dropped. Marius’s demeanor changed the instant their eyes met. Where previously he’d been somewhat angry with me for running all over creation, now his voice was soft and gentle as he spoke to the young woman. “I didn’t see you there. Forgive me?” he asked, bowing to her.   
I stifled a groan. I could tell what was happening. He was falling in love with this mystery girl.   
However, upon looking at her for just another second or two, I realized who she was. Cosette. The girl my family had tortured when she was younger. Marius didn’t recognize her, since she’d grown up to be so beautiful. But I did. There was no mistaking that golden hair and those sparkling blue eyes.   
But then my father started speaking. He was standing next to Maman, who was pretending to have a crying baby. Most likely begging for money to feed their so-called infant. “Please Monsieur, come this way! Here’s a child that ain’t eaten today. Save a life. Spare a sou! God rewards all the good that you do!”   
Yep. Like I said. Feeding their supposed baby while not caring that their actual daughters were starving.  
I wanted to advise the man he was robbing not to go over there, but I couldn’t. I had to be a lookout. I had to prevent them from going to jail. If my family went to jail, so would I. And I couldn’t go to jail.   
I turned back to face my father, whose expression had turned from one of cunningness to one of…was that fear? He recognized this man. He feared this man.   
And there was only one man my father feared. Monsieur Valjean.   
“Wait a bit,” Papa said. “Know that face! Ain’t the world a remarkable place? Men like me don’t forget. You’re the bastard that borrowed Cosette!”   
I winced. Great. He knew. He was going to hurt Monsieur Valjean. No. He couldn’t.   
“What is this? Are you mad? No, m’sieur, you don’t know what you do!” Monsieur Valjean shouted.   
However, he couldn’t finish his sentence before Papa screamed, “You know me, I know you, and you’ll pay what we’re due. You’d better dig deep, ‘cause she doesn’t come cheap.”   
Then, almost as if sent by God himself, I saw a man going around the corner. His broad frame and his menacing walk was all too familiar to me. Inspector Javert.   
I leaned around the corner and screamed at the top of my lungs, “It’s the police, disappear, run for it! It’s Javert!”  
“Cosette!” Monsieur Valjean shouted.  
A sudden panic overtook the square, although my parents stayed standing in the open. However, most people ran for cover. I stayed leaning against the wall I had already been near. Javert hadn’t noticed me, and he probably wouldn’t if I stayed where I was. Monsieur Valjean also took Cosette’s hand and led her away, and Marius’s eyes followed them as they hurried out of view, rounding a corner. His face instantly transformed from joy to sadness as the new object of his affections disappeared.   
If only he had my skill at recognizing people. He would’ve known her instantly. But he didn’t, and there was no way I was telling him who she was.   
“Another brawl in the square! Another stink in the air! Was there a witness to this? Well, let him speak to Javert! M'sieur, the streets are not safe, but let these vermin beware! We'll see that justice is done!”  
Javert walked back and forth, examining my parents. “Look upon this fine collection, crawled from underneath this stone. This swarm of worms and maggots could have picked you to the bone! I know this man over hear, I know his name and his trade, and on your witness, Monsieur, I’ll see him suitably paid.” He looked away from my parents for a split second and noticed that Monsieur Valjean had disappeared. “But where’s the gentleman gone, and why on Earth would he run?”   
A crafty smile crossed Papa’s face as he stepped forward. “You will have a job to find him. He’s not all he seems to be. But that girl who trails behind him is the child he stole from me!” Papa said. I rolled my eyes. What a load of crap! Monsieur Valjean bought Cosette on orders from her mother. Papa knew that. He was just still bitter that he couldn’t use her as a slave any longer.   
“Yeah, and me!” Maman added, poking Papa’s side.   
“Yeah, both of us.”  
Javert seemed to retreat into his own thoughts for a moment. “Could it be he’s that old jailbird? That the tide now washes in? Heard my name and started running…all the omens point to him!”  
I winced. No. Monsieur Valjean couldn’t go to jail. Then Cosette would be in trouble, and she’d come back to our family, and Marius would find her, and all would be ruined! How I wished I could go over there and sort everything out! But I wasn’t crafty enough to avoid getting arrested. It was better to leave this mess to my parents.  
“In the absence,” Papa stepped forward again so he was right next to Javert, “of a victim, dear Inspector, may I go? But remember when you’ve nicked him, it was me what told you so!” He dusted off Javert’s shoulder, then spat on his handkerchief as if to clean the Inspector’s coat. Maman then thrust her shoulder at him in a half attempt at seducing the officer.   
What a degenerate woman.   
Javert glared at Papa. “Let the old man keep on running. I will run him off his feet!” He looked my father right in the eyes, then turned around. “Everyone about your business. Clear this garbage off the street!”  
I stifled a laugh as an officer threw Gavroche to the ground. My brother hopped right back up and popped his jacket, as if to say, “I’m not scared of you.”  
Despite everything that was going on, I felt somewhat relieved. We had evaded getting robbed. We had gotten lucky.  
I just didn’t know when our luck would run out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'ALL. SORRY THIS IS LATE. I MISSED MY WEEKEND UPDATE BECAUSE I WAS AT ATF THEN I WATCHED PRETTY WOMAN, SO I SAID SCREW IT AND WAITED UNTIL TODAY. SORRY.


	27. Chapter Twenty-Six: Marius

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Robbery, but from Marius's perspective.

I knelt over my suitcase, putting things in it. My room was a complete mess and putting things in suitcases was the best way to clean it up, I figured. That and I didn’t have room to really organize anything. Space was low in the Gorbeau House, specifically in my room.   
“Hey there Monsieur, what’s new with you?” a lilting voice called from behind me. I turned around to see Èponine in all her matted-haired glory grinning at me, her dimple still ever-prominent. “Plotting to overthrow the state?” I rolled my eyes. You still pretending to be poor? C’mon, I know your grandpa’s rich.”  
I grabbed my suitcase without thinking and walked out of the room. “Won’t take a franc that I’ve not earned. All of those bridges have been burned,” I said, walking down the stairs.   
“I like the way you talk, Monsieur!” Èponine said, grinning.   
I stopped on the stairs and looked up at her. “I like the way you always tease,” I said.   
We then continued down the stairs until we arrived under the awning at the door of the Gorbeau House. A loud, harsh voice echoed over the streets and Èponine winced. Definitely her parents. Nothing else could make her cringe that way. “Everyone here! You know your place! Brujon, Babet, Claquesous. You, Montparnasse! Watch for the law. With Èponine, take care. You turn on the tears, no mistakes, my dears!”   
“I’d better go see what he wants,” Èponine whispered, a hint of resignation in her voice. “I’ll be back in a moment.”  
I nodded and sat down, pulling out my well-worn copy of The Three Musketeers by Alexandre Dumas. I couldn’t bring myself to look at the scene unfolding on the street behind me. That stupid Montparnasse probably had his hands somewhere he shouldn’t have on my best friend. Either that or he was whispering something terrible to her. Probably some combination of the two.   
“These bloody students on our streets, here they come slumming once again!” a brash voice called. Èponine’s mother, the woman who used to care so much for me. She used to like me because I could make Èponine smile. Now she sees me as just another student. “Our Èponine would kiss their feet! She never had a scrap of brain.”  
What a lie! Èponine was one of the smartest girls I knew. I had been teaching her a bit of arithmetic and science in my spare time, and she was really quite smart. And she was streetwise too. She knew her way around Paris better than everybody else, and she could tell the best places to hide. She was smarter than everyone I knew combined. Even Combeferre.  
Never mind, that much was a stretch.   
She came running up behind me and tapped my shoulder, and I noticed that she’d kind of cleaned up a little. She had adjusted her favorite corduroy hat so it sat a little straighter on her head and adjusted her belt so it was tighter.   
What? I paid attention to things. I was an observant man, thank you.  
She stepped backwards just as quickly as she’d approached, and I knew what I had to do. I had to act like I didn’t know that she was there and pretend like it was the first time I’d seen her that day. It would protect her from a beating. “Hey, Èponine, what’s up today? I haven’t seen you much about.” She laughed, knowing exactly what I was doing.  
“Here, you can always catch me in!” Èponine said, playing along. She knew that our friendship went against societal norms, me being an upper-class boy and her being a lower-class girl. Not only that, but her parents were nearby, and they’d never approve of Èponine speaking to me.   
“Mind the police don’t catch you out!” I warned, not joking this time. Plain daylight was dangerous for my beloved best friend. The police would take her away if they knew of her history of stealing. Her parents were already wanted men. What was to stop them from taking their daughter away too?   
I was brought from my thoughts by Èponine snatching my book from my hands and sprinting across the street, giggling like a schoolgirl. I rolled my eyes. She was such a dork sometimes. “Here, whatcha do with all these books?” she asked, thumbing through the pages. “I could’ve been a student, too. Don’t judge a girl on how she looks. I know a lot of things, I do!” She shoved her face right up against mind and slammed the book in my face. I flinched.   
“Poor Èponine, the things you know, you didn’t learn in books like these,” I said, reaching out to reclaim what was rightfully mine. Èponine, however, had other plans. She yanked the book away and hid it behind her back, then waved it all over creation until I was finally able to snatch it.   
She smiled and said, “I like the way you grow your hair.”   
“I like the way you always tease,” I said, silently cursing myself. I’d said that one already. Èponine laughed. She loved when I accidentally repeated myself. It was “cute” to her or whatever.   
I walked away, returning to my book. Èponine looked somewhat hurt as she said something to herself, but she was the one who always said that we shouldn’t be seen in public. Something about it ruining my reputation.   
The joke was on her. I didn’t have a reputation in the first place.   
Just then, her father whistled, and she went running toward her parents. “Here’s the old boy. Stay on the job. And watch out for the law.”  
I walked over to Èponine and took her wrist. She couldn’t go over there. She’d get hurt. She yanked her wrist out of my hands. “Stay out of this,” she said, more urgency in her voice than I’d ever heard.  
“But, Èponine!” I pleaded.   
She rested her hands on my arm and looked me dead in the eyes. “You’ll be in trouble here. It’s not your concern. You’ll be in the clear!” She placed her hand on my chest and I shook my head. It was my concern. If she got sent away then…well, I didn’t know what I would do. I’d lose the best friend I ever had.   
She tried to run off, but I took her wrist again. “Who is that man?”   
“Leave me alone!” she snapped, pulling her hand out of my grasp and sprinting away. There was no catching her when she started running. Seriously, that woman could run like a cheetah.   
“Why is he here?” I asked, following her at a brisk walk. “Hey, Èponine!”  
Suddenly, something slammed right into me, and this was followed by the thud of a basket falling to the ground. I was ready to tell the basket’s owner off for running into me, but then our eyes met. They were crystal blue, like the waters of the Seine on a sunny day and glittered just like it. I knelt down to see her better and noticed that she had long blonde hair that curled at the edges and a beautifully kind face. Everything about her was beautiful.   
“I didn’t see you there. Forgive me?” I asked, bowing to her. She smiled at me, and I felt my heart soar. She was beautiful when she smiled.   
I wanted to ask her name, but she stood up and walked over to a man who was standing near Èponine’s father.   
Èponine. She was my greatest resource. She knew everybody in Paris, and she probably knew the girl. I could ask her to find her for me. She’d do it.   
I kept my eyes on the mystery girl as Èponine’s father began to speak. “Please Monsieur, come this way! Here’s a child that ain’t eaten today. Save a life. Spare a sou! God rewards all the good that you do!” The girl’s face changed to one of concern for the baby the Thenardiers were trying to feed. What would she think if she knew that the baby wasn’t even real?  
My eyes flashed over to where Èponine was standing, looking conflicted, then back to the mystery girl and the Thenardiers. Monsieur Thenardier’s face had changed. Where previously his eyes were filled with the urge to do something terrible, they were now filled with terror itself. He knew this man.   
But who was Monsieur Thenardier afraid of? Who had the power to terrify such a man?   
“Wait a bit,” he said. “Know that face! Ain’t the world a remarkable place? Men like me don’t forget. You’re the bastard that borrowed Cosette!”   
Cosette. Now that was a name I hadn’t heard for a while. How was she doing? Maybe she knew the mystery girl. Probably her adopted sister or something.   
“What is this? Are you mad? No, m’sieur, you don’t know what you do!” the man with the mystery girl shouted. The girl’s eyes were wide with fear as she clung to the man, presumably her father’s, arm.   
“You know me, I know you, and you’ll pay what we’re due. You’d better dig deep, ‘cause she doesn’t come cheap!” Monsieur Thenardier yelled.   
As the tension built in the square around me, Èponine lunged out from the corner she was behind and screamed, “It’s the police, disappear, run for it! It’s Javert!” I heard the man yell after she did, but I couldn’t tell what he said.   
The entire square dissolved into chaos, but I couldn’t tell you a single thing that happened other than the girl I loved took her father’s hand and he lead her away, rounding a corner and disappearing from my view.   
My heart sank. She was gone. Èponine was my only hope at finding her now. I didn’t even know her name. How was I supposed to find her in a city such as Paris if I didn’t even know her name?   
If only I could recognize people like ‘Ponine could.   
“Another brawl in the square! Another stink in the air! Was there a witness to this? Well, let him speak to Javert. M’sieur, the streets are not safe, but let these vermin beware! We’ll see that justice is done!”  
Javert paced back and forth, eyeing Èponine’s parents. “Look upon this fine collection, crawled from underneath this stone. This swarm of worms and maggots could have picked you to the bone! I know this man over here, I know his name and his trade, and on your witness, Monsieur, I’ll see him suitably paid.” He paused for a minute and looked around the square, noticing that the girl and her father had disappeared. “But where’s the gentleman gone, and why on earth would he run?”  
Èponine’s father grinned a sly fox grin and stepped forward. “You will have a job to find him. He’s not all he seems to be. But that girl who trails behind him is the child he stole from me!” Now that was a ridiculous statement. How could you steal a child? And anyway, wasn’t that a kidnapping?  
“Yeah, and me!” Madame Thenardier added, poking her husband in the side.   
“Yeah, both of us.”  
Javert’s eyes glazed over as he left the corporeal world for a minute. “Could it be he’s that old jailbird? That the tide now washes in? Heard my name and started running…all the omens point to him!”  
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Èponine wince.   
Èponine’s father stepped forward so he was side-by-side with this Inspector Javert. “In the absence of a victim, dear Inspector, may I go? But remember when you’ve nicked him, it was me what told you so!” He brushed off Javert’s shoulder, then spat into his handkerchief in some feeble attempt to use his saliva as a cleaner. Èponine’s mother then raised one shoulder as a way of…seducing Javert.   
How was someone as kind and wonderful as Èponine the offspring of such rats?   
Javert glared at Èponine’s father. “Let the old man keep on running. I will run him off his feet!” He turned around and commanded a few other officers who had come out into the square. “Everyone about your business. Clear this garbage off the street!”  
One of the officers sent Gavroche sprawling to the ground. Of course, this didn’t faze the little boy, who jumped right back up and popped the collar of his jacket. Èponine suppressed a laugh, and so did I.   
My mind went back to the mystery girl, radiant in all her beauty.   
I had to ask Èponine who she was. I just had to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I PROMISE I'LL STICK TO MY SCHEDULE THIS WEEK!! I missed Saturday and Sunday because I was a few hours away at a concert and once I got home I didn't feel like writing. Sorry, guys! Hopefully I'll get back on track soon!!


	28. Chapter Twenty-Seven: Eponine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eponine is told that she should go find Marius's new girl for him.

I leaned against the wall, and though I may have been looking around as if trying to find something, I was deep in my own thoughts, searching for all memories of Cosette.   
“Cosette,” I whispered. “Now I remember!” There they were. All the memories of the two of us playing around outside the inn. The ones of me, her, and Marius sitting on the swings and talking. The time I tried to help her with her chores and got beaten. The time I snuck out of my room to keep her company as she sat alone by the hearth, crying. I had blocked these memories out, but there they were, coming back to me by the second.   
“Cosette! How can it be?” How could it be that God had brought my other best friend back to me just when I needed her most? But then again, how could it be that Marius was leaving me for her? How had I gone from two best friends to none in the span of an afternoon?   
I sighed. “We were children together. Look what’s become of me!” What had become of me? We had essentially traded places. When we were younger, she was a miserable little girl who had nothing going for her. Now she had all the virtues in the world, and I was the one with nothing going for her. Why couldn’t I have been taken away by Monsieur Valjean too? Then Marius might have loved me as he loved her.   
Just then, I saw none other than Marius Pontmercy approach. I quickly adjusted my hat and my mood. He couldn’t know that I was upset that he had seen Cosette. He also couldn’t know that she was, in fact, Cosette. Not until he met her himself. Besides, maybe, if he realized that he didn’t know anything about her, his love for her would subside.   
But I also knew that he would ask me to find her. And I knew that I couldn’t say no to him.   
I grinned at him. “Good God, oh, what a rumpus!” I laughed, looking at him. He usually laughed when I made fun of Javert.   
But this time was different. He seemed to be in a sort of daze, almost tripping over his own feet a time or two. “That girl, who could she be?” he asked, stumbling over to me.   
“That cop, he’d like to jump us, but he ain’t smart, not he!” I said, grinning as he stopped right in front of me.   
“Èponine, who was that girl?” he asked. His eyes were looking right into mine, but although he was looking at me, I was the farthest thing from his thoughts. I could tell. It was a miracle he had remembered my name, to be honest.   
I scoffed. “Some bourgeois two-a-penny thing,” I muttered, twirling my hair and walking away from him. That was all Cosette was. Just a bourgeois girl who wouldn’t give Marius the time of day. Then he’d come back to me, sorry that he ever saw her across the square after she broke his heart.  
No. That wasn’t true. I saw the way they looked at each other. She loved him just as much as he loved her. Her eyes sparkled the same way mine did when I gazed upon Marius. They were in love with each other and they would be happy together forever. And as for me, their childhood best friend?   
I’d be alone forever, wondering when somebody would make me drop my basket and fall in love with me the minute our eyes met.   
“Èponine, find her for me!” Marius asked, edging toward me. I rolled my eyes. Of course he wanted me, his sad little best friend, to find the new object of his affection.   
“What will you give me?” I asked. I wouldn’t do this without payment. Nobody would find somebody for somebody else without payment. That wasn’t what you did. Specifically not when your little sister was sitting in the apartment not knowing when she’d eat next.   
“Anything!” Marius said. No, you won’t give me anything, I thought. There’s one thing you won’t give me. Your love. And it’s the one thing I want most.  
I lunged for his book again, laughing as I said, “Got you all excited now! But God knows what you see in her!” I shrugged and offered the book back to him. He didn’t even notice that I had taken it and just started rooting through his pockets, searching for something. “Ain’t you all delighted now?” I stepped toward him and he thrust a gold coin into my face. I stepped backwards and put the book behind my back, blinking. Why had he done this? Was he trying to…pay me to go find his new girlfriend? I shook my head. “No. I don’t want your money, sir.”   
He walked toward me and put the coin back in his pocket, looking back at me. “Èponine. Do this for me?” he pleaded. “Discover where she lives.”   
Great. He wanted me to be a creepy stalker. Wasn’t that just wonderful?   
He suddenly seemed almost bashful. “But careful how you go. Don’t let your father know!” he warned. Good. At least he still worried about whether or not my father would find out about things. At least he still didn’t want me to get beaten. He seemed to have forgotten everything else, however. “’Ponine! I’m lost until she’s found!”  
It took every muscle I had not to roll my eyes as I stood there looking at him. This was getting outrageous. Why was he talking about a girl he barely knew as if they’d known each other for ages?  
I guess because in a way, they had. But he didn’t know that. He didn’t need to know that.   
“You see, I told you so!” I said, pulling the book out from behind my back. He looked down at it, smiling to see it returned to him. That idiot hadn’t even realized that I had his book. He took it back, but my hands lingered on the leather cover for a second too long. Then, without a word, he rushed off, leaving me reaching out for him, wondering where he had to go in such a hurry. “There’s lots of things I know!” I finished. “’Ponine…she knows her way around!”   
I sighed as soon as I finished speaking. Time to go find Marius’s new love, I supposed.   
But although I was doing it for him, I was not going to be happy about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOOK! I UPDATED ON TIME FOR ONCE! Sorry this chapter's so short, there's not much you can do with a song that lasts like a minute and a half.


	29. Chapter Twenty-Eight: Marius

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marius asks Eponine very desperately to find his mystery girl.

I couldn’t believe it. I’d found the girl I loved. I’d finally found the girl I was meant to be with forever.   
Now I just needed to learn her name and who she was. And I knew exactly who could help me with that. The girl who knew Paris backwards and forwards from her days of wandering the streets. The girl who found a miraculous way to know every person’s face and name and could never forget one. The second-most amazing girl I’d ever met.  
My best friend, Èponine Thenardier.   
I spotted her leaning against a wall and I ran toward her, grinning like an idiot, as she later told me. She adjusted her hat and smiled. Her smile looked a little fake, but I wasn’t going to ask why. She wouldn’t tell me anyway. She very rarely told me anything personal. Something to do with her past or whatever.   
“Good God, oh, what a rumpus!” she said, laughing. However, it was as if the words didn’t register. I heard them, but the meaning didn’t quite hit me.   
“That girl, who could she be?” I asked, stumbling over to her. I almost tripped over my own feet on my way over, and Èponine looked as if she was stifling a laugh.   
“That cop, he’d like to jump us, but he ain’t smart, not he!” she said, smiling even brighter at me.   
I looked right into her eyes. However, my thoughts were far away. The only thing I could think about was my mystery girl. Did she feel the same way as me? Did she love me as well? Did she feel the love blossoming in her just as I did? How could I know?   
I’d have to meet her. And that’s why I needed Èponine. She could find my love for me. She had to. Otherwise, I was sure that I would die.   
“Èponine, who was that girl?” I asked, trying to convey my desperation in the tone of my voice. She had to catch on. This meant so much to me.   
‘Ponine scoffed and twirled her hair. “Some bourgeois two-a-penny thing,” she grumbled, walking away.   
I tried my hardest not to get offended. How could she say something like that about the love of my life? Friends were supposed to be supportive. They were supposed to help their friends with their love lives.   
But I couldn’t get offended. I needed her help. She had to know that. She had to know that we were going to be happy together, and that everything was going to be okay as long as I was happy with my love. I wouldn’t ignore her. Was that the problem? Did she think I was going to ignore her for my mystery girl?   
Well, she couldn’t have been more wrong. I wasn’t that kind of friend.   
“Èponine, find her for me!” I pleaded, walking toward her. She huffed and rolled her eyes.   
It was hard not to get angry with her by this point. I don’t know what was stopping me from full out snapping at her.   
Maybe it was because she was my best friend. Maybe it was because I had a shortage of close friends and wanted to keep the ones that I did have. Maybe it was because I needed her to do this or I would die. Whatever it was, it was holding me back from breaking and yelling at my best friend.   
“What will you give me?” she asked, a mischievous little twinkle in her gold-flecked brown eyes. Of course she wanted payment. Who would do something for somebody else without payment? Specifically when they were in Èponine’s hard financial situation. My grip tightened on my book. Did I even have any money? I wasn’t sure, but I had to find some. If I did, Èponine would find my mystery girl for me, and that was a necessity, as I’ve established.   
“Anything!” I said. I’d give her all the money I had. After all, my mystery girl looked like she had a surplus of money, and if she loved me as I loved her, she’d spend money on me.   
But I knew that Èponine wouldn’t take all the money I had. I knew how she was. She never wanted to take money from anybody else. It had something to do with the Thenardier blood. They didn’t accept charity. Èponine never had, Azelma definitely didn’t, and Gavroche would sooner die than take money from somebody else.   
She laughed and I felt the sensation of something leaving my hands, but I wasn’t certain what it was. Was I even holding something in the first place? “Got you all excited now! But God knows what you see in her!” Èponine laughed. She shrugged and extended her hand, looking for money, no doubt. I stuck my hands in my pockets, trying to find something. Did I have any money? God, let me have brought something out with me today! I prayed. “Ain’t you all delighted now?” Èponine asked. I pulled a gold ten-franc coin from my pocket and put it right up next to her face. Her eyes went wide and she stepped backwards, clearly shocked.   
Why wasn’t she taking it? Wasn’t this what she wanted?   
“No. I don’t want your money, sir,” she said.  
I almost groaned. If she didn’t want my money, what did she want?   
I put the coin back in my pocket and walked closer to her. “Èponine. Do this for me?” I pleaded. “Discover where she lives.”  
I knew that was a little creepy, but what else was I supposed to do? Wait for her to come back into town? Not hardly!   
“But careful how you go. Don’t let your father know!” I warned, suddenly worried that she’d get beaten over this. “’Ponine! I’m lost until she’s found!”   
“You see, I told you so!” she said, grinning and pulling my book out from behind her back. Ah! That was what she took! My novel! I took it back, her hands still lingering on the leather cover. No doubt because she rarely felt leather. “There’s lots of things I know.”   
Suddenly, I remembered something. A meeting at the Musain. I was going to be late. I ran off, praying she’d understand.   
“’Ponine…she knows her way around!” I heard Èponine say as I ran off.   
Splendid. I was late again. Enjolras was not going to be happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay guys. I'm changing my update schedule. It's going to be Sundays now. Maybe Saturdays. And any time I can squeeze another one in, I might go with that. I'm not sure though. I've got a lot of other stuff I'm writing, including a Phantom fanfic I probably won't post. ANYWAY. Hope you enjoyed this!


	30. Chapter Twenty-Nine: Eponine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eponine heads out in search of Cosette.

I walked off in search of Marius’s darling Cosette, stifling a groan. What? I said I would help him, I never said I would appreciate helping him. As a matter of fact, it sounded incredibly boring to help the man I loved find the new object of his affections. What kind of girl would appreciate something like that?  
None of them.   
I decided to check the Rue Plumet before anywhere else, since it seemed to be the kind of place a rich man like Monsieur Valjean would live. Unfortunately, it was on the other side of Paris. Great. Papa would know I was off doing something I wasn’t supposed to do. But first, I had to let somebody know where I was going so she could cover for me if Papa decided to ask where I was.  
I walked into the Gorbeau building and ran into a little auburn-haired girl on the stairs. None other than my little sister, Azelma Thenardier.   
Just the girl I needed.  
“Hey, ‘Ponine! What’d ya think of that scene down in the street earlier?” she asked, laughing. “Pretty big stink there, huh? And I mean, with the way you handled it…that was pretty good!”   
“Listen, I’ve not got time to talk. I have to run an errand,” I said, my voice hushed.  
“Ooh, for that Monsieur Marius of yours?” she asked. I groaned. “Ha! That means it is for that Monsieur Marius of yours! When are you just gonna ask him if he loves you?”  
“Well, I know he doesn’t. And that’s why I need you to over for me.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“I have to go find the love of his life. I need you to lie to Papa if he asks where I am. I’m going to be down at the Rue Plumet, and I need you to keep him away from there for the rest of the night. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone, but please just keep him away from there.”  
Azelma rolled her eyes. “I’ll do my best to keep our stupid dad off your tracks. Go get that boy!”  
I walked down the stairs, then realized what Azelma’d said. “I’m not going to go get the boy! I’m finding his new girlfriend for him!”  
“Oh, whatever!”   
I sighed and walked out of the building and headed toward the Rue Plumet, which was just outside of Paris. I’d been there countless times before. The streets there were littered with shadows from my past, of robberies I didn’t want to be parts of and Montparnasse’s hands wandering where they shouldn’t. No fond memories came from the Rue Plumet.   
And this was just another terrible memory that was going to be added to the list.   
I knew the way there like I knew my own name. Straight out of the city. Left turn, then right. Right again and continue straight. Find the cobblestone path and then you’re there. It was finding the house that was the issue.   
It was probably a big one, with a garden. Cosette had always loved flowers when she was living with my family and me, and it would make sense that her new family had a garden. Probably full of hundreds of plants that she took special care of.   
She was always caring like that. Would she still care about her old best friend?  
I wandered for a few more minutes before I came across a huge wrought-iron gate, twisted into spiraled shapes. I saw a flash of g0lden hair behind the gate and slowly crept toward it. Could that be Cosette? She had a similar hair color to the golden flash. And she was flitting like a lark, just the way she used to.   
Suddenly, she turned around and I ducked behind a tree. Not fast enough, however. “Who was that?” Cosette asked, looking around.   
I walked out from behind the tree. “It’s me.”  
She tilted her head. She didn’t recognize me. Her old best friend. “Yes, I know that you’re you, but who are you?” she asked. “You look so oddly familiar, like a girl from my childhood…but the girl from my childhood would never be so covered in dirt. She was a pampered little princess, even though she loved getting dirty and playing in the mud. She never stayed dirty for long.”   
I smiled sheepishly. “Yeah…it is me, Lark. It’s Èponine, your old best friend.”   
A bright smile spread across her face and she hugged me through the gate. “Oh, ‘Ponine, it’s really you?” she asked. I nodded. “My goodness! You look…different.”  
“I know. I’m poor now,” I sighed. “I haven’t had a good meal or taken a shower in a really long time. But guess whose behalf I’m here on?”  
“Is it the boy I saw across the square earlier? I saw you talking to him while I was talking to those…they were your parents!” Cosette cried. “My God, they’ve gotten worse than they were when I was trapped with them! I’m so sorry that you’re stuck with them.”  
“Hey, I’m surviving decently. Don’t feel bad for me at all. But yeah, I’m here on behalf of the boy who you saw across the square earlier today. He seems to be in love with you, Cosette.”  
“Oh, I’m in love with him too! The world looks so new now that I know that he’s here!” She twirled around. “Everything is so bright and shining! Please send him my way as soon as you can, Èponine!”   
I laughed. “I will, believe me. We should be back sometime later today, and I’ll bring the boy you love with me when I come. He’s going to be so happy that I found you.”  
“Can’t you stay for dinner?” she asked. “Papa’s making the best food ever! He’s a magnificent cook.”  
I shook my head, laughing. “I can’t, no. I’ve got to get back home. My sister’s waiting for me.” She sighed. “I’m really sorry.”  
“Oh, at least take a loaf of his bread. He’s an amazing baker. And share it with that sister of yours. Stay right here.” Cosette rushed inside, holding her skirt so it didn’t touch the ground.   
I smiled. She was still such a ray of sunshine. She deserved Marius far more than I ever would. They complemented each other perfectly and would be Paris’s perfect couple.   
Still…I couldn’t help but love him and wish that he would prefer me to her someday, though I knew it wouldn’t happen. I chastised myself and told myself to be happy for Cosette and Marius, no matter how badly it hurt my feelings.   
Cosette ran back out carrying a loaf of bread. “Here you go!” she said, handing it to me. “Take it back to Azelma and share it with her. You said you don’t eat enough, so don’t try to refuse it.”  
I sighed. She was really making it hard to resent her for making Marius love her somehow.   
“Thank you, Cosette. Now, I’ve got to go. I’ll bring the boy you love back here sometime tonight. Be ready and watch for me.”  
“I will!” she said, waving as I walked off.   
Back to the café, I guessed. This was the start of a life that was lonelier than the one I was already living.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we go! Hope you enjoyed the reunion of best friends!


	31. Chapter Thirty: Marius

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjolras does not have time for Marius's flights of fancy; or, Red and Black.

I glanced up at the clock as I slipped into the Musain. Fifteen minutes later than the scheduled start time. Thankfully, I seemed to have slipped in unnoticed. Enjolras was still rambling about his rebellion, and everyone else was watching him from behind bottles of wine and absinthe. Nobody had noticed me.   
Or at least, I thought nobody had noticed me. Then Joly said, “Marius, you’re late! What’s wrong today? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost!”  
Well, I had seen a ghost. The ghost of an angel, meeting my eyes in the square and then leaving as quickly as she appeared. The ghost of the girl I loved.   
“Some wine and say what’s going on!” Grantaire said, pouring a mug of wine and offering it to me. I laughed and took the glass.  
“A ghost you say? A ghost maybe. She was just like a ghost to me. One minute there, then she was gone!” I said. Enjolras glared at me. Clearly he didn’t care that I had found my true love. I don’t know what I expected out of a man who claimed that his true love was France.   
“I am agog! I am aghast! Is Marius in love at last?” Grantaire asked. I laughed, trying to hide my embarrassment. Thanks, Grantaire. Now everybody in the café knew that I was in love with my darling mystery girl, even though I didn’t do a great job of hiding it. “I’ve never heard him ‘ooh’ and ‘aah!’” Everybody laughed. Once again, thanks Grantaire. “We talk of battles to be won! And here he comes like Don Juan. It is better than an opera!” He stood up and commanded everyone’s attention, much to Enjolras’s dismay.   
Enjolras sat down across from me and shot Grantaire a disapproving look as the man took a sip of wine. “It is time for us all to decide who we are,” he began. “Do we fight for the right to the night at the opera now? Have you asked of yourself what’s the price you might pay? Is this simply a game for a rich young boy to play? The colors of the world are changing, day by day!”   
Uh oh. He was about to go on a revolutionary spiel. I grimaced. This was not going to be good.   
“Red! The blood of angry men! Black! The dark of ages past! Red! A world about to dawn! Black! The night that ends at last!”   
I was suddenly interested in the texture of my fingernails. I couldn’t ever bring myself to meet Enjolras’s eyes when he was ranting like this. Frankly, it got a bit old at times, all this ranting and raving about the new world he was going to start. He cared more about that rebellion than he did any of us, or so it felt.   
He stood up, and I knew he was going to ask me to fight. But I couldn’t! I simply couldn’t. Not after I’d fallen in love with my beautiful mystery girl. “Had you seen her today you might know how it feels,” I said, trying to explain my situation to him. He couldn’t make a man in love fight, especially when his life was on the line. “To be struck to the bone in a moment of breathless delight!” Enjolras scoffed and turned away from me, but I followed him. “Had you been there today you might also have known! How your world may be changed in just one burst of light! And what was right seems wrong, and what was wrong seems right.” Enjolras shook his head, not understanding (or maybe refusing to understand) what I was saying.   
That’s okay. He didn’t have to understand. He just had to let me not fight.   
“Red!” Grantaire prompted, earning a glare from Enjolras.   
“I feel my soul on fire!” I said, taking Enjolras’s speech and twisting it to be my own. He would see. He would see how much I loved my mystery girl, and he’d relieve me of my duties as a soldier. I’d still help with protests and things, but there was no way I could fight with them and possibly die.   
“Black!”  
“My world if she’s not there!”  
“Red!” Everybody said the word this time, only encouraging me more.   
“The color of desire!” I shouted.   
“Black!” Enjolras looked as if we’d just canceled the rebellion to go pick flowers in the meadow and frolic.   
“The color of despair!”   
Enjolras glared at me and I buried my face in my hand. “Marius, you’re no longer a child! I do not doubt you mean it well. But now there is a higher call!”  
“I know,” I said, planning to say something else before he cut me off again.  
“Who cares about your lonely soul?” he asked, clearly blind to the fact that everybody except him supported my romancing of my mystery girl. “We strive towards a larger goal. Our little lives don’t count at all.” I looked down at my fingernails again. There it was. He was going to get us all killed. “Red!” he shouted again.  
“The blood of angry men! Black! The dark of ages past! Red! A world about to dawn! Black! The night that ends at last!” everyone shouted, surrounding me with their shouts of revolution until I finally joined them on the last line of their rhythmic little chant.   
Courfeyrac pushed through the crowd, yelling “Listen everybody!” and running to the stairwell, where Gavroche stood. He put his hand on the little boy’s back.   
“General Lamarque is dead,” Gavroche said, his normally cheerful voice solemn.   
Everyone turned to Enjolras. “Lamarque is dead. Lamarque, his death is the hour of fate,” he began. “The people’s man. His death is the sign we await! On his funeral day, they will honor his name with the light of rebellion ablaze in their eyes! From their candles of grief, we will kindle our flame. On the tomb of Lamarque shall our barricade rise. The time is here! Let us welcome it gladly with courage and cheer!   
“Let us take to the streets with no doubt in our hearts!” Feuilly said, speaking up for the first time at the meeting.   
“With a jubilant shout!” Courfeyrac added.   
“They will come one and all!” Bossuet cried.   
“They will come when we call!” we all chanted.   
As the chant faded into little more than an echo, I saw her. Èponine, looking wildly up the staircase, trying to find me. I rushed down to her, not caring what anybody in the café thought.   
“Did you find her?” I asked, looking dead into her gold-flecked brown eyes. She turned and fled, probably meaning that she had found my mystery girl.   
I looked up at Enjolras, who could barely meet my eyes. Maybe he didn’t approve of what I was doing. But that was okay. I was going to meet the love of my life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'ALL. Sorry I'm late again, Easter happened and I'm just now getting to writing this. Hope you love it! Sorry if the Amis are OOC, I'm not too great at writing all of them. Les Mis fanfic is hard, guys.


	32. Chapter Thirty-One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eponine leads Marius to find Cosette, or In My Life.

I rushed out of the café, unable to look at Marius, and arrived on the street below the Musain almost a full minute before Marius did, the cobblestone grimy beneath my even grimier feet. The door behind me creaked open and I started walking again, trying not to look Marius in the eyes. If I did, he’d surely see the heartbreak in them and realize that I was in love with him.  
Or maybe he wouldn’t. He was always an oblivious boy, after all.   
“Èponine!” Marius shouted, hurrying his steps to catch up with me. “Èponine, slow down! You’re going to leave me in the dust!”  
I turned around, making sure I didn’t look him in the eye. “Maybe that’s the idea, Monsieur,” I said, grinning at my feet.  
“Uh huh. Why would you want to leave me behind?” he asked. “And why won’t you look me in the eye? And why are you calling me Monsieur? We’re friends, ‘Ponine.”   
I took a deep breath. I had to come up with something. I couldn’t tell him that I didn’t want to look him in the eye because I was in love with him, could I? For once, I was thankful I was a Thenardier. I had spent my entire life coming up with lies on the spot.  
“I would only want to leave you behind and not look you in the eye and call you Monsieur because a girl like me shouldn’t be seen in public with a man like you,” I said. He raised one eyebrow. “I mean, just think about it for two seconds. A girl of my heritage, who wears dirt as if it were makeup and who hasn’t seen in a hairbrush and what’s got to be months now walking around in public with a perfectly good boy who wears nice clothing and definitely brushes his hair every morning. You’d be shamed if you were seen anywhere near me!”   
Marius rolled his eyes and put his hand on my shoulder. I tensed. His touch sent electricity through my body and I wanted to melt into it forever, although I knew that I couldn’t. “Look at me, Èponine. I will never be ashamed to be seen with you. You’re my best friend.” He smiled. “Now, let’s get going! My mystery girl won’t wait on me forever, you know!”  
And just like that, that moment—our moment—was thrown away in search of Cosette yet again.   
We started back walking, Marius right by my side, in silence. However, the silence got tense about five minutes into our walk. “So, how was your meeting?” I asked. “I hope Enjolras wasn’t too angry that you were late. I know how he gets.”   
Marius shrugged. Of course he did. He always shrugs when he’s asked about his meetings. Sometimes I wonder if he really cares what’s going to happen in this rebellion that he’s always spending time planning.   
“He wasn’t too angry,” Marius said. “At least, he wasn’t too angry that I was late. My actions at the meeting were a different matter.”   
I laughed. “Yeah, what’d you do to tick him off this time?”   
He smiled. “Talked about my mystery girl. The way he avoids it, you’d think Enjolras was allergic to romance or something.”   
Suddenly, the smile that had felt so natural pained my cheeks to maintain and I let it fall just as quickly as my spirits had. “Maybe he is. Or maybe he just has to find the right girl.”  
“That’s probably the case,” Marius answered. He then turned and looked me in the eyes. “You’ve got such beautiful eyes. It’s a shame they’re so often filled with sadness.”   
I tilted my head. “What do you mean, they’re so often filled with sadness? I’m actually quite a happy girl, you know.”  
He shook his head, sending his hair flying everywhere. “No, you’re not. You’ve been a bit down lately, dear ‘Ponine. What’s got you feeling so blue?”  
Once again, my Thenardier genes kicked in. “I’m not blue. Life’s just kinda happened. By the way, I spoke to that girl that’s captured your heart. She’s very kind, you know. There are a lot of worse girls out there.” Including me, I added to myself.   
He grinned. “Really?”  
I nodded. “She’s perfect for you, Marius. You’re going to love her even more once you meet her, if that’s at all possible. And she seems to really love you too.” His eyes lit up as I said this.   
We rounded a corner into the Rue Plumet, and the rant I’d been anticipating this entire walk began. “In my life, she has burst like the music of angels, the light of the sun!” I sighed. Great. There he went, off on his wonderful tangents again.   
However, he was extremely cute when he ranted about things he was passionate about. Even when passion was channeled into love for another girl.   
“And my life seems to stop as if something is over and something has scarcely begun!” He jumped up onto a step, twirled around a pole, and jumped back down to face me, radiating joy like the light of the sun he compared Cosette to.   
He turned to face me and put his hands on my waist. It took every ounce of strength within me not to tense up or melt into his touch. “Èponine, you’re the friend who has brought me here!” He grabbed my hands and twirled me around, and I couldn’t help but laugh. “Thanks to you, I’m at one with the gods and heaven is near!” I held his hand for a second too long after he broke away from me, wandering ahead and ranting about his beloved Cosette.   
“And I soar through a world that is new, that is free!” I watched as he jumped up on a doorway.   
I ensured that he was out of earshot, then murmured to myself, “Every word that he says is a dagger in me.”   
And wasn’t that the truth? It was like he was holding a dagger, pressing it further into my stomach with every word he spoke. The dagger was sinking into my stomach, and if he continued to speak it would probably kill me. Every word stung with more pain than the last. Maybe it was because of the knowledge that nobody would ever speak of me the way he spoke of Cosette. And you want to know the worst part?   
He didn’t even know that his words were going to kill his best friend. Or maybe he did. But if he did, he didn’t care. And that’s worse than him not knowing.   
“In my life,” I murmured again, watching him wander around in search of Cosette with adoration. Had he looked back for even a split second, he would’ve seen me watching him with all the love in the world in my eyes. But he never looked at me. “There’s been no one like him anywhere. Anywhere, where he is. If he asked…I’d be his.”  
That was the truth as well. All he had to do was ask me to be with him forever, and I wouldn’t have to even think before accepting. All he had to do was ask me to run away with him, and I wouldn’t hesitate before disappearing to the deserts of Africa or somewhere, never to be seen again by anyone besides my Marius.   
My Marius. Something I’ll never be able to refer to him as again. Not now that his heart belongs to somebody else.   
“In my life,” we said together, hardly knowing that we spoke at the same time, “there is someone who touches my life.”   
I saw Cosette walk out of her house and stride toward the wrought-iron gate I’d spoken with her through before. Unfortunately, Marius saw her too. “Waiting near,” he said, running toward the gate.   
“Waiting here,” I sighed.   
It was all over now. Marius had found Cosette. Was there any hope left in my life, now that the source of it was disappearing?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'ALL. I actually think this is one of my best chapters! I'm super sorry it took so long to post, I don't remember what was even happening last weekend. But seriously. This is some GOOD stuff. Hope you enjoy it! Share it with your friends and leave some comments if you did!


	33. Chapter Thirty-Two:Marius

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eponine leads Marius to his mystery girl, as he calls her, and he cannot wait to meet her.

Èponine rushed out of the café, not meeting my eyes. “Can I go?” I mouthed to Enjolras, who gave me a disapproving look and a subtle nod. “Thank you so much.”   
I turned toward the creaky wooden stairs and walked down, assuming that ‘Ponine was standing outside with directions to where we needed to be going. I pushed the door open with a soft creak and walked out onto the Parisian streets, not caring that the mud would dirty my shoes. After all, I was going to meet the love of my life! What did dirty shoes matter? If she truly cared about me, she wouldn’t care that my shoes were messed up.   
Èponine started walking again, refusing to look me in the eye. “Èponine!” I shouted, walking faster. “Èponine, slow down! You’re going to leave me in the dust!”   
She turned around, still not meeting my gaze. Why was she not looking at me? “Maybe that’s the idea, Monsieur,” she said, smiling her dimpled smile at her bare feet.   
“Uh huh. Why would you want to leave me behind?” I asked. “And why won’t you look me in the eye? And why are you calling me Monsieur? We’re friends, ‘Ponine.”   
She took a deep breath before beginning to speak. “I would only want to leave you behind and not look you in the eye and call you Monsieur because a girl like me shouldn’t be seen in public with a man like you,” she said, all the words rushing from her mouth like a waterfall. I raised one eyebrow. Was she ashamed to be seen with me? I certainly wasn’t ashamed to be seen with her. “I mean, just think about it for two seconds. A girl of my heritage, who wears dirt as if it were makeup and who hasn’t seen a hairbrush in what’s got to be months now walking around in public with a perfectly good boy who wears nice clothing and definitely brushes his hair. You’d be shamed if you were seen anywhere near me!”  
I rolled my eyes and put my hand on her shoulder. She tensed up, probably from not having been shown physical affection in years. “Look at me, Èponine. I will never be ashamed to be seen with you. You’re my best friend.” I smiled. “Now, let’s get going! My mystery girl won’t wait on me forever, you know!”   
We started walking again, with me right beside her, in silence. However, what started off as a comfortable silence soon got tense somewhere around five minutes later. “So, how was your meeting?” she asked. “I hope Enjolras wasn’t too angry that you were late. I know how he gets.”   
I shrugged, just as I always did when someone asked me about the meetings. I couldn’t share information about them in public. After all, one never knows when a random passerby could be a government official who hates any idea of insurrection.   
“He wasn’t too angry,” I said. “At least, he wasn’t too angry that I was late. My actions at the meeting were a different matter.”   
Èponine laughed, a sound that was music to my ears. She rarely laughed, and the fact that I could make her laugh was an amazing feeling. “Yeah, what’d you do to tick him off this time?”  
I smiled back at her. “Talked about my mystery girl. The way he avoids it, you’d think Enjolras was allergic to romance or something.”  
The smile fell from Èponine’s cheeks. “Maybe he is. Or maybe he just has to find the right girl.”   
“That’s probably the case,” I answered. I looked her in the eyes. Brown and gold, shimmering in the sunlight like gemstones. “You’ve got such beautiful eyes,” I said without thinking of the words coming out of my mouth. “It’s a shame they’re so often filled with sadness.”   
She tilted her head. “What do you mean, they’re so often filled with sadness? I’m actually quite a happy girl, you know.”   
I shook my head, then straightened my hair back up. “No, you’re not. You’ve been a bit down lately, dear ‘Ponine. What’s got you feeling so blue?”  
“I’m not blue. Life’s just kinda happened. By the way, I spoke to that girl that’s captured your heart. She’s very kind, you know. There are a lot of worse girls out there.” She looked like she wanted to say something else, but she didn’t.   
I grinned. “Really?”   
Èponine nodded, and I felt my heat go soaring. She was going to love me. My mystery girl really was perfect. If she had Èponine’s approval, she could get anyone’s approval. “She’s perfect for you, Marius. you’re going to love her even more once you meet her, if that’s possible. And she seems to really love you, too.” My eyes lit up. She loved me too. She really loved me too.   
Life couldn’t have been better.   
Èponine led me around the corner into the Rue Plumet, and my happiness finally burst forth. “In my life, she has burst like the music of angels, the light of the sun!” I cried.   
I jumped up onto a step, spun around a pole, and jumped back down to face Èponine. Joy was flowing through me in place of blood, and I didn’t want it to stop! I hadn’t felt so amazing in a long time. “And my life seems to stop as if something is over and something has scarcely begun!”   
I put my hands on Èponine’s waist and spun her around, drawing another laugh from her, as I said, “Èponine, you’re the friend who has brought me here! Thanks to you, I’m at one with the gods and heaven is near!” I let her go and wandered ahead, my mystery girl the only thought on my mind.   
“And I soar through a world that is new, that is free!” I jumped up onto a doorway.  
I took a moment to catch my breath. I had someone who loved me. And I loved her too. Could anything be so amazing as to love and be loved in return? In that moment, I knew that there wasn’t.   
And all it took was a glance! I caught her eye once across a square, and that was all it took. I looked at her, and she looked at me, and we fell in love! It was like something out of the old storybooks that I read as a child. The ones that always ended in true love.   
And this time, I was the one who had found true love.   
“In my life, there is someone who touches my life,” I said.   
The door to the house opened and out walked my mystery girl. Blonde hair that had the perfect amount of curl. The kind blue eyes that pierced me across the square. The most beautiful face I had ever seen on a woman. “Waiting near,” I said, running toward the tall, wrought-iron gate with its metallic twists and spires.   
My life was changing for the better. I’d finally found the one I loved more than anything else. In that moment, when I saw her, nothing else mattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOSH Y'ALL, I'M SO SORRY I HAVEN'T UPDATED IN SO LONG. I've had way too much to do, but now i think I'm back on a schedule. Or rather, I should be. Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Next up: A Heart Full of Love!


	34. Chapter Thirty-Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eponine watches from the shadows as Marius meets Cosette; or, A Heart Full of Love

My heart was shattering more with every step Marius took. He’d walk, and I’d feel another dagger stab into my heart. I followed him for a few steps, then realized that I’d be seen, and ducked behind a wall. Neither of them was going to see me. I wouldn’t allow it. For all Marius knew, I had left, and for all Cosette knew, I’d never come in the first place.   
It was better to keep it that way. Better for them to think that they are not the reasons for the last inklings of hope that I had being erased.   
Before he met her—Cosette—I’d liked to think of Marius as a candle. The one source of light in my life. The darker it was, the more grateful I was to have him to light my steps, even if he could only light one step at a time. He was there, and he was shining, and as long as he was there I could at least somewhat see where I was going. Then earlier today, when he saw Cosette again, the candle went out.   
Now I’m stumbling blindly through the dark, nothing to guide my steps and unsure where my feet will fall next.   
I shook my head and pulled myself out of my thoughts just in time to see the door to Cosette’s house open. Marius beamed as a sliver of light pierced the depths of night in the garden, revealing Cosette, who was walking through the garden, and he said, “A heart full of love!” She took another step toward him, her face barely visible among the white flowers and through the wrought-iron gate. But she saw him. And she heard him.  
And she was coming to answer the call of the one she loved.   
Marius continued to smile at her through the gate in a way he had never smiled at me. He looked at Cosette with so much wonder, the same way I looked at him. With a sparkle in his eyes that wasn’t there before, or a look of pure amazement in the way someone moves, or talks, or just…exists. It’s the look of somebody in love, and it’s a look I know far too well.   
But I also know the look of heartbreak far too well, and the way this evening was going, we were going to be learning more about each other while this whole scene was going on.   
“A heart full of song!” Marius said. He stumbled over his words a bit, similar to the way I did when I was around him. Did he not recognize that all these new mannerisms he’d picked up, I did around him? Perhaps love is a sort of blinder, and when you’re in love and are loved in return, you fall into your own little world. “I’m doing everything all wrong!” he cried.   
Now there was something we could agree on.   
“Oh God, for shame, I do not even know your name!” I stifled a laugh when he said this. He did know her name! She was his other childhood best friend! If he’d been more observant earlier, he’d have heard me when I called Cosette by her name, or maybe even recognized her the way I did. But, being the dolt that I loved, he never heard anything or recognized the familiar face from his childhood.   
He’d laugh at me if he ever heard this, by the way. Just saying.   
Cosette stepped closer to the gate, so close that were the gate not there, their faces would be touching. I tried to tell myself to look away, that I’d only get hurt if I kept watching this happen, but I couldn’t bring myself to tear my eyes away. “Dear mademoiselle…won’t you say? Will you tell?” Marius asked, still searching for answers as to who this girl was. I wanted to tell him that if you didn’t know who a girl was, you shouldn’t declare that she was your true love, but I knew that he wouldn’t listen.   
“A heart full of love! No fear, no regret!” Cosette said, her eyes only on Marius. They could see nothing but each other. The rest of the world had fallen away to them, and that included me. I had fallen away in their world, unimportant to the rest of their lives. I should have just left. I peeked around the wall I was behind to get a better view and immediately regretted it, though I did not retreat. Fighting back tears, I continued to watch what was happening in front of me as my two best friends fell in love right before my eyes.   
I could not cry. The tears couldn’t flow. Tears were weakness. Tears meant showing that you were broken and flawed. Tears were not allowed in my household. Tears meant being beaten by my demon of a father.   
Thenardiers did not cry.   
“My name is Marius Pontmercy!”  
Cosette’s face lit up with recognition as she looked at Marius. Surely she knew that he was the boy from her childhood. If she’d managed to recognize me through my layers of dirt and sadness, she’d be able to recognize Marius, who literally did not change except for gaining more freckles. “And mine’s Cosette!” she said, her lilting voice sounding like a song.   
This time, Marius’s face was the one glimmering with recognition. He beamed as he said, “Cosette, I don’t know what to say!” Of course he didn’t. He never knew what to say in situations such as this, when his past came back to him in a way he didn’t expect. Seriously, you wouldn’t believe how many times ghosts of his past had returned to him in weird, unexpected ways. This was the first time he’d fallen in love with one, though.   
Cosette dipped her head, smiling at Marius. I found myself smiling too, simply overwhelmed with my love for him and wishing his words were meant for me, but my smile returned to a frown as Cosette spoke again. “Then make no sound!” she said.   
“I am lost.”   
“I am found.”  
Marius’s face continued to shine as he said, “A heart full of light!” The light from his heart was clearly overflowing into his face.   
“A night bright as day!” Cosette responded.   
“And you must never go away. Cosette, Cosette!” he said, too overwhelmed with love to say anything but her name. I’d felt like that before, like the only word I could think was Marius’s name.   
“This is a chain we’ll never break.”  
“Do I dream?”   
“I’m awake.”   
“A heart full of love!” Marius exclaimed again.   
I looked on, and by that point, I couldn’t contain my sadness anymore. “He was never mine to lose,” I whispered, knitting my forehead and fighting against the tears welling up in my eyes as hard as I could.   
“A heart full of you!” the lovebirds said in perfect sync, their hearts already joined so they could tell what each other was about to say. That’s what Maman always said would happen when I met my soulmate, if I ever met him. That our hearts would beat together as one and we’d be able to sense what our soulmate was going to say. I had always believed that she was full of it, but perhaps there was a bit of truth to this phrase. Otherwise, how would Marius and Cosette know what each other was about to say?  
“Why regret what could not be?” I asked myself, wondering why I regretted something that had never happened in the first place. What was the point in wasting my precious sadness on something I knew was near impossible?   
“A single look and then I knew,” Marius said.   
“I knew it too!”   
“These are words he’ll never say. Not to me,” I said, shaking my head. There was no way he’d ever confess his love to me the way he was doing to her. I was little more than a friend to keep him from getting lonely during the day. Nothing more. Nothing less. Just a friend, and hardly even a best friend anymore. She would be his best friend, and all would go back to the way it was before Monsieur Valjean took Cosette away from my house. They’d be best friends again.   
But this time, I would not be there.   
“From today!” Marius said, grinning. He couldn’t hear me. He never heard me.   
“Not to me, not for me,” I sighed. As much as I wished, dreamed, and prayed that he’d see me the way he saw her, I knew that it never could be. His words weren’t said to me. Confessions of love weren’t for me.  
“Every day!” Cosette said, smiling back at Marius, matching the light shining from him with light of her own.   
“For it isn’t a dream,” Marius and Cosette said together again.   
“His heart full of love,” I said, sighing. It didn’t belong to me. It never did.   
“Not a dream after all!” they said. With that, Cosette opened the gate and ushered Marius in so they could get to know each other better. They probably thought that it was appropriate, since they just confessed their undying love to each other. Both of them were smiling and speaking in hushed voices as they walked into the garden, the gate shutting behind them and shutting me out of their lives.   
“He will never feel this way,” I said, turning to leave. Not like Marius and Cosette needed me there anyway. I wasn’t important to them anymore.   
Then I heard it. The footsteps. I knew those footsteps. They belonged to my father. And he was coming to take away both their happiness and mine.  
I had to do something to stop this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all I'm so sorry I've been so so so busy with exams and a birthday party and just life in general that I have had NO time to update! And I won't have much time over the next three weeks either, since I'll be in North Carolina taking a class, but once I get back, I PROMISE I'll update more.


	35. Chapter Thirty-Four: Marius

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marius meets his beautiful Cosette for the first time.

I walked up to the gate, my jaw falling to the ground as she floated closer and closer toward me. I couldn’t believe it. She was right there, coming closer to me. She wanted to see me too! She had felt the lightning strike between us when we bumped into each other just as I had. And now she was coming toward me, longing for the touch of my hand on hers, longing for another lightning strike to jump between us when our fingers laced together.   
“A heart full of love,” I said, feeling as if said heart was about to burst. It was so full of the love I felt toward her, though I barely knew who she was. My mystery girl could be a terrible person and I would still love her so deeply I couldn’t express it. She was my soulmate, I just knew it.   
She walked closer, her beautiful face framed by tiny white flowers on spindly branches reaching across her yard. Her blue eyes shimmered once more with a look I recognized to be love, as I’d felt the shimmer in my own eyes when I looked at her. I’d seen it another place too, but I couldn’t put my finger on where I’d seen it or whose eyes were shimmering. “A heart full of song,” I said, not taking my eyes off of her. Even dressed in nothing but a simple white nightgown, hair pulled to the side of her head, she was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. I didn’t know how it was possible for me to love someone this much.   
I stumbled over my words, unsure of what to say, then said, “I’m doing everything all wrong.” She continued walking closer, hints of a smile on her lips when she recognized me as the boy from earlier that she’d shared such a special moment with. Then it hit me. I didn’t have an inkling of a clue what her name was! “Oh God, for shame, I do not even know your name!” I cried. She was right up against the gate now, looking up at me through the twisting iron with those beautiful eyes, sparkling in the moonlight. “Dear mademoiselle…won’t you say? Will you tell?”   
“A heart full of love,” she said, her voice soothing to my ears, though whether it was because of my great love for her or because her voice was truly soothing I could not tell. I sighed. She was keeping her name a secret for a little longer, leaving the question burning in my soul. I heard soft footsteps behind me but couldn’t be bothered to turn around and see who was there. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that my mystery girl was here with me, and that we loved each other. The rest of the world was irrelevant.   
“No fear, no regret!” she said. She loved me! She really loved me the way I loved her. She feared nothing as long as I was by her side. She regretted nothing as long as I was there to experience it with her. Truly, we were soulmates.   
“My name is Marius Pontmercy!” I blurted, and her eyes lit up with something…recognition, perhaps? Had she just now remembered that I was the boy from earlier? The slightest hint of a smile graced her features, making her appear even more beautiful than she had before, if that was at all possible.   
“And mine’s Cosette!” the mystery girl said. This time, I was the one hit with the strike of recognition. That was why she seemed so familiar, like I’d known her for years and years. She was my childhood best friend who I’d lost contact with the minute that man took her away from the Thenardiers! I smiled.   
“Cosette…I don’t know what to say!” I said, stumbling over my words again. And it was true. What was one supposed to say when they found out that the girl they’d seen once and fallen in love with was their childhood best friend? I believe that nearly everyone would forget what they were about to say after news like that was dropped on them.   
She laughed, shaking her head just as she did when we were children and Èponine or I did something ridiculous. “Then make no sound.”   
“I am lost.”   
“I am found.”   
“A heart full of light!” I said, feeling as if I was shining brighter than the sun in that moment. I couldn’t contain my smile any longer and let it show through, since it was obvious to Cosette that I loved her dearly.   
“A night bright as day!” Cosette said. And she was right. Now that she was here, the night shone as brightly as the day, for she was a light in my world. Even when things looked bleak, I could just think of her and the world seemed a little bit brighter. Perhaps not as bright as it was on a good day, but bright enough that I could see that there was a better future in store for me.   
“And you must never go away…Cosette, Cosette!” Saying her name felt like music to my ears. It was such a beautiful name for a beautiful girl. It suited her better than I ever knew that a name could suit a person. Just like her, the name Cosette was soft, sweet, and relatively musical when spoken. I couldn’t wait to be saying that name for the rest of my life, as I likely would.   
“This is a chain we’ll never break,” she said. I assumed that the chain she meant was the one tying us to each other, though it felt more like a ribbon tied in a shimmery bow than a chain. Chains gave the impression that we were weighing each other down and not good for each other, and that wasn’t at all how I felt when I was around my darling Cosette.   
“Do I dream?” I asked, feeling as if everything I was seeing could not be real.  
“I’m awake,” she answered, letting me know that everything I saw and felt was not a figment of my imagination.   
“A heart full of love!” I said again, beaming at her through the gate.   
“A heart full of you!” we said in perfect sync, our souls already bound together although we’d only known each other for a matter of hours. I guess that was what happened when you were soulmates. You were tied together by strings of destiny, two hearts beating as one and two brains thinking as one.  
“A single look and then I knew!” I said, wondering how it was that it had only taken one look into her eyes for me to fall so deeply in love with her. It was magic. Love was magical, my friends.   
“I knew it too,” Cosette said.   
“From today,” I said, promising myself to her from today and for forever.   
“Every day,” she replied, promising herself to me from today and for forever. I’d love her from today, every day for the rest of our lives, and she’d love me for that long as well. What more could I ask for?   
“For it isn’t a dream,” we said together, confirming my belief that everything I saw was real. I was still uncertain, even after she said that she was awake. I could never be sure what was real and what wasn’t. “Not a dream after all!”   
She then opened the gate to her house and led me inside. I was so ready to get to know the love of my life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! Hi! I'm officially back! I've been super busy over the summer, but now that school's back in and I'm back to a routine, I think we should be good to go! Sorry for the really long wait, I've been SO busy with camps and band and all this other stuff.


	36. Chapter Thirty-Five: Eponine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eponine and Marius have some...unwanted guests.

I couldn’t breathe. The footsteps grew closer and closer with every gasping breath I forced myself to take. I pressed myself as close to the wall as I could, praying that nobody would see me. I was a part of the wall. I was the wall. There wasn’t enough left of me to stick out very far anyway.  
They would find me, I knew. They always found me. But I could at least delay it a bit.   
My father spoke, and I held my breath. “This is his lair. I’ve seen the old fox around. He keeps himself to himself, he’s staying close to the ground. I smell profit here!” The Patron-Minette circled around him like dogs circling around their prey, closing in on him and hanging on his every word. It was sick, the way they’d do anything my father asked. He could demand that they kill me, or worse, kill Azelma, and they’d do it without a second thought.  
All but Montparnasse. He wouldn’t kill me. Watch me suffer, perhaps, but not kill me. He “loved” me too much to let me die. Besides, my papa would sooner give me over to him for money than allow him to kill me. Either way, the way he viewed it, he’d be rid of me, and that was ideal.   
“Ten years ago, he came and paid for Cosette. I let her go for a song, it’s time we settle the debt. This’ll cost him dear!” Papa—no, not Papa, Thenardier—said. I cursed under my breath, praying that nobody heard me. How strange it was, that something as wrong as a curse could be followed by something as blessed as a prayer. Wonderful. He knew that this man was more than wealthy. No, he knew that this man had “wronged” him in the past, something that always sent my father on a spree of vengeance.   
And it was my fault. It was my fault he found Monsieur Valjean’s house. Had I not been so blind with my love for Marius, I would have remembered to check my surroundings every time I took a step, ensuring that the Patron-Minette weren’t right there to find out where I was. But I hadn’t done that this time. Now I was paying the price of my ignorance. If the price of this grand failure was my death, so be it.   
I’d quite welcome death.  
Brujon, always the most simple-minded of the Patron-Minette, save for perhaps Guelemer, began to shout. Thenardier cringed the minute the other man opened his mouth, and much like me, he cursed. I couldn’t help but smile. Perhaps with Brujon’s screaming, their cover would be blown and they’d have to run, leaving me alone with my feelings. It’s not often that I hope to be alone with my feelings, but if it meant making sure that Marius was alright, I’d choose that in a heartbeat.   
“What do I care who you should rob? Give me my share! Finish the job!” Brujon yelled. He stuck his hand out toward Thenardier, expecting golden coins to be dropped into it. My father glared at him, not giving him any money, and I could tell that he was hoping that Brujon would just shut up for a second so they could get on with their robbery. Keep yelling, I pleaded. Keep yelling. Make yourself heard so Monsieur Valjean will know that he is not safe and so Marius will know that something is wrong. Please. Just continue to yell.   
My father ran toward Brujon, getting so close to his face that he had to step back to avoid his general stink. “You shut your mouth!” he hissed. “You’ll get what’s yours!”  
Brujon, however, was not listening to anything Thenardier said. Instead, he stared directly at me, his eyes meeting mine. I glared at him and lifted my chin, attempting to tell him not to mess with me. “What have we here?”   
Thenardier turned away from him and faced me. “Who is this hussy?” he asked. I laughed. He was so drunk he couldn’t even recognize his own daughter. It would’ve been sad had I not expected this sort of behavior from him. This wasn’t the first time he hadn’t recognized me, though it was the best time for him to forget my existence. I smiled. Maybe God was watching out for me after all.  
Babet, mind quick as always, laughed, a cruel noise that grated against my ears like nails down a chalkboard. “It’s your brat Èponine! Don’t you know your own kid? Why’s she hanging about here?” He started walking toward me and I ran to meet him, dodging his cane when he stuck it out to stop me from fighting him. He got up close to my face, and looking away, I drew my fists back and punched him in the chest. He didn’t even falter. I then stepped toward him again, unafraid although he was a good six inches taller than me.   
“Èponine, get on home. You’re not needed in this. We’re enough here without you,” Thenardier said. Babet ran back to his master, tail between his legs. It was all I could take not to laugh. He was scared of a seventeen-year-old girl. And for good reason, too.   
Look, I may not be able to do much, but I can handle myself against the Patron-Minette.   
I took my chance. I sprinted to the gate and grabbed the bars in my hands, shaking them back and forth as I said as loud as I could without shouting, “I know this house I tell you! There’s nothing here for you!” I leaned around to the other side of the gate, searching for any signs that somebody, anybody, had heard me. They had to know that something was wrong. Did they not hear the voices outside their perfect gardens?   
I guess that’s how the upper-class lives. Behind their perfect walls, ignoring all signs of trouble before it’s too late and they’re plunged into ruin at the hands of the vengeful poor.   
“Just the old man and the girl! They live ordinary lives!” I said, storming over to where my father and his servants sat cowering on the ground. My heartbeat roared in my ears. I was doing it. I was finally doing something right. They were afraid of me and what I could do to them.   
Maybe this is why my father went into his business. For the rush he got from intimidating others into obeying him. It was exhilarating, but something deep inside me told me that it was wrong. Perhaps that’s what separates me from my father. The ability to resist this exhilaration so I can be, you know, a decent human being.   
My father stood up, and the exhilarating heartbeat turned to a fearful one. The rest of his dogs followed him, and he came rushing toward me. He seized me by the hair and pushed me away from the gate, and I held back a scream, clutching the back of my head. I couldn’t show pain. Pain meant that he was getting to me, and I couldn’t let him know that. So I just allowed myself a quick cringe and pushed on.   
“Don’t interfere! You’ve got some gall. Take care, young miss, you’ve got a lot to say.” He let go of my hair and shoved me to the ground. My knee skidded across the ground and began to bleed. Thinking that he’d gotten me out of the way, Thenardier returned to his men.   
“She’s going soft!” Brujon cried.   
“Happens to all,” Claquesous said.   
“Go home, ‘Ponine, go home, you’re in the way!”   
They hoisted a man, I couldn’t tell who, up onto one of the pillars, while one of the others came running toward me and tried to hold me back. I shoved him off of me, sending him sprawling and hopefully bloodying his knee. “I’m going to scream! I’m going to warn them here!” I yelled, not meeting anybody’s eye but rather looking into the gate, praying somebody inside would be able to hear me.   
Thenardier turned to me. “One little scream and you’ll regret it for a year!” Our eyes met for a split second.   
Then, I rushed forward. One man lunged to stop me, but I swatted him out of the way and grabbed hold of the metal bars, shaking them back and forth and screaming at the top of my lungs. My throat began to burn, but still I screamed. Someone would hear me now. Somebody had to hear me.   
I knew I’d be punished, probably worse than I ever had before. But it was worth it to make sure that innocent people weren’t harmed or worse, killed.   
The Patron-Minette scattered, and my father was still screaming orders at them even in their state of panic. “Head for the sewers!” he shouted. “Go underground! Leave her to me! Don’t wait around!” Everyone ran, but he stayed and looked dead at me. I lifted my chin again, appearing confident though my legs trembled beneath me.  
I always feared my father. Nothing, not even feigning confidence, could tell my mind not to be afraid of that man. He glared at me. “You wait my girl! You’ll rue this night. I’ll make you scream! You’ll scream alright!” He rushed at me and I tightened my grip on the iron bars of the gate as he gripped my neck. Tears welled up in my eyes. I couldn’t breathe. This was it. He was going to kill me.   
He let go of me and I went running toward him, glaring him down as he scuttled into the sewers, where he belonged.   
Then I heard it. Marius’s voice. My heart melted on the spot. He was safe. He appeared on the other side of the gate, pushing it open. “It was your cry, sent them away! Once more ‘Ponine, saving the day!”   
But then I saw her. Cosette had come back too, looking at me through the gate with that smile that so enchanted Marius. My heart reformed from its melting just in time to shatter again. He stepped away from the gate and looked at her, grinning. “Dearest Cosette! My friend ‘Ponine brought me to you, showed me the way.” He gasped. “Someone is near! Let’s not be seen! Somebody’s here!”   
With that, he scaled the gate and sprinted off into the night. Cosette gave me one last smile and disappeared into the house, leaving me alone with my thoughts and my pounding heart once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'ALL. Ninth grade hit me like a truck. I am so sorry I haven't updated this! I've just had so little time. I swear, I'm going to be better about it. Hope you like it!


	37. Chapter Thirty-Six: Marius

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marius gets to know Cosette a bit better.

Cosette led me into her garden, her delicate hand wrapped in mine. I couldn’t hide my smile. She loved me. Really, truly loved me. She turned back to look at me as we walked through the gardens, admiring all the night-blossoming flowers, though none of them were nearly as pretty as she was. No blooming four-o-clock flower could outshine her perfectly blue eyes.   
We stopped under a canopy of wisteria, though most of the flowers had retreated into their buds for the evening. She patted one side of a white bench, then crossed to the other, smoothing her nightgown and taking a seat. I followed suit, taking a seat next to her. Her face instantly went pink as she turned to look at me, her eyes meeting mine.   
I was suddenly aware of my appearance. My hair looked as if it hadn’t been brushed in weeks, my shirt felt more tattered than it ever had, and I worried that my coat didn’t match the rest of my outfit. I reached one hand up and brushed my hair, fearing that I’d tainted Cosette’s impression of me. She shook her head and smiled, the tiniest giggle leaving her mouth. My heart leapt into overdrive. She thought I was funny. She loved my quirks.   
She loved me.   
After a few minutes of comfortable silence, one word finally escaped her pink lips. “Euphrasie,” she said, her voice floating across the quiet courtyard, piercing the atmosphere created by the crickets and chirping birds.   
“What?” I asked, fearing that she’d been talking for many minutes and I just hadn’t been listening. She looked down at her hands, not daring to meet my eyes. Had I somehow offended her?   
“It’s my name. Euphrasie.” Her eyes flickered upwards and she gazed at me through long dark lashes, trapping me in her gaze. Had she not radiated purity, I would have labeled her a coquette the way she had perfected that gentle gaze that warmed the deepest parts of my soul.   
“Pardon my stupidity,” I began, “but I thought you said your name was Cosette?”   
She nodded. “That’s what everyone calls me, but my name is Euphrasie. I’ve been called Cosette my whole life, though. Papa thinks it’s endearing.”   
“I think Euphrasie is a pretty name,” I said, not quite knowing what she wanted me to say.   
“I hate it.” The words, so crude and common, sounded strange leaving my love’s delicate mouth. “Cosette is so much gentler and prettier. It suits me better than Euphrasie ever would. Sure, it’s elegant and Cosette is nothing but a childhood nickname, but my mama gave me that nickname. It’s one of the last things I have from her.” She grew quieter at this last sentence, and her veneer of calmness dropped for a split second. I could’ve sworn I saw tears bubbling up in her perfect eyes.   
That was another thing we had in common. We’d both lost our mamas as children. “I’m so sorry,” I said, laying one hand on her shoulder. The feeling of her skin through the thin material of her nightgown sent electric shocks through my body.   
“It’s fine,” she said, regaining her composure just as quickly as she’d lost it. “I was only four when she passed. She’s in a better place now. And I have Papa. I just wish I had more memories with Mama. All I have from her is a childhood nickname and a gentle spirit, as Papa likes to say. He tells me that I’m so much like her.”   
“I’m sure you are,” I said, remembering the woman who brought Cosette to Montfermeil that day. Looking back, from what I knew of Cosette’s mama, the two were quite similar.   
“Tell me about your parents,” Cosette said. “If I remember correctly, you were with your grandfather when I first met you all those years ago. Where were your mama and papa?”   
“My mama died when I was young. I barely remember her except that she was my best friend before I met you and Èponine. She knew everything about me. I still miss her. And my grand-père took me from my father after Mama died, so I never knew him either. He had a wonderful laugh, though, the kind that could make an entire room cackle at even the silliest joke. It was so fun when they’d host parties. I’d get up to tell one of my little-kid jokes and my papa would start laughing so hard that everyone else couldn’t help but laugh. It made my night. But then Mama died and Grand-père took me from Papa. Now the closest thing I have to a mother is Nicolette, my grandfather’s servant girl. She’s amazing, though. I love her,” I said. Maybe I’d told her too much, but I didn’t really care. Cosette was my soulmate. She deserved to know all about my past.   
Cosette took one of my hands, lacing her fingers into mine. “I’m so sorry, Marius. That’s awful.”  
I shook my head. “It’s perfectly fine, darling. I’ve gotten used to it, and I’m stronger for the struggle. Nothing is wrong. I’ve turned out alright, I believe.”  
“I would say you have,” Cosette said. “We both have. I never knew my papa either. He left my mama alone when she was pregnant with me. I never want to meet him.”   
I was preparing to say something when suddenly, a scream pierced the tranquil night air. Cosette, who had progressively drawn closer and closer to me until she was pressed against my side, jumped, her heart beating out of her chest. I wrapped my arms around her. “It’s alright,” I said.   
“What was that?” she asked, voice high and words spilling out of her mouth faster than water from a tipped cup.   
“Probably just someone down the road. We can go look if you want to,” I offered. She nodded, her eyes wider than I’d ever seen them. We stood up from the bench, her hand finding its way to mine and grasping it.   
The two of us arrived at the gate just in time to see shadows darting through the darkness, though one, a thin wispy form almost like a ghost, remained. “Èponine!” I called, remembering that my dear friend had been waiting outside all this time, keeping watch for anyone who should disturb Cosette and me. The specter turned to face us, and I saw its wide brown eyes that never stayed focused on something for more than five seconds. It must’ve been her that screamed. Something must have happened. I turned to Cosette. “It’s alright, darling, it was just Èponine. Something must have concerned her.”  
A light flickered on in the house behind us. “You should go,” Cosette whispered. “Papa won’t be happy if he knew you were here.” She pressed a quick kiss to my cheek and stepped back a few paces into the night. I ran to the gate and pushed it open, careful not to let it creak, and ducked out to the other side.   
“It was your cry, sent them away! Once more ‘Ponine, saving the day!” I said, commending Èponine for her hard work. I couldn’t show my gratitude enough. She was a life saver. I then saw Cosette, smiling gently at me through the gate, though there was hurt in her eyes, as if she believed I was leaving her for Èponine. “Dearest Cosette!” I said. “My friend ‘Ponine brought me to you, showed me the way.” Another light flickered on. “Someone is near! Let’s not be seen! Somebody’s here!”  
Then, without waiting to see if Èponine was behind me, I dashed off into the inky night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YIKES. I'm so bad about updating this. But school is hard, y'all. Don't do school. It sucks.

**Author's Note:**

> Yay! The first chapter of my new fic is finally done! I planned this entire thing, which is extremely long, over the span of like three days. I don't have an update schedule quite yet, although the one for Daggers got thrown to the wind toward the end of its run. I'm so excited to share this fic with you and everyone who ships Meponine! Leave constructive criticisms in the comments to let me know how I can improve this story in later chapters.


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